


lιттle perғecт вad cнeмιѕтry

by xforestsong



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Ashton, Alpha Calum, Alpha Harry, Alpha Luke, Alpha Michael, Alpha Zayn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Wolves, Beta Liam, Bonding, Bottom Louis, Dark Harry, Dom Harry, F/M, Feminization, Funny Niall, Head Space, High School Enemies, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Molestation, Mounting, Omega Louis, Omega Niall, Possessive Harry, Protective Harry, Sex Toys, Sexist Language, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Smart Liam, Stubborn Louis, Sub Louis, Tiny Louis, Top Harry, Traditional Views, cross-dressing, ruts, shape-shifters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3794560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xforestsong/pseuds/xforestsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a freshman at Métamorphe College; Harry is his insatiable high school bully who seems to take an immediate interest in the reunion with his favourite victim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. reυnιon

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, I'm starting another fanfiction. Well, to make it fair, I'd already begun writing this one before 'Little Big Prince', so, in a way, this one came first.  
> This one's A LOT shorter than 'Little big Prince', so if you couldn't stand the lengthy first chapter from the previous fanfic, consider this one a break.
> 
> I hope it's okay :)

 

 

 

"Hey, Louis."

I shifted myself in front of my open locker, presenting my back to him; hopefully he'd catch the I'm-really-not-in-the-mood-right-now body language.

He didn't... 'course he didn't.

"I _said_ 'hello, Louis.'"

I ignored him.

"Well, aren't you going to reply?"

I reached for my math textbook, mentally commenting on the side how much I despised this subject... and this one that was currently happening right behind me. Funny - both are daily routines... and were ones that I despised.

"Louis," he started to croon in that _very_ irritating tone of his, "Louis."

I clenched my teeth as I grabbed my blue pencil case (since when was there a hole torn in the corner? Damn it all; I probably lost more than half my pencils by now), feeling my nerves being grated with every passing second of this annoyance.

A new voice piped up. "I think he's ignoring you."

Well, shit, how long did it take him to figure _that_ one out?

A scoff. "Nonsense." _Not nonsense, Mr. I'm-the-best-and-no-Omega-can-resist-my-charms; I really am ignoring you... but of course, with a fat head like yours, that message won't process easily_. "He's just playing hard to get."

I grabbed my calculator, stacking it on top of my armful of books, holding them against my chest as I simulataneously cogitated his very slow, harrowing demise.

"Louis knows he's in love with me."

Okay, now he was purposely trying to get at my nerves. He's egging me on; what for - _a fight?_ I don't understand him, nor do I want to know anything that's inside that head of his.

I craddled my lock in my hand, twisting and snapping it into place in its home once I shut my locker door. I turned and journeyed forward down the hallway, keeping my head low purposely, yet still watching the student traffic in front of me.  
Unfortunately, I don't go far before that voice- that sticky, infuriating, malicious voice -attacked.

"I _know_ you love me, Louis."

I halted.

A different- a Beta follower -guy commented. "Hey, look! He stopped. He really does have a crush on the Football Captain."

A chorus of donkey-like laughter broke out at the mere snide comment. I could feel my shoulders tightening and fists subconsciously balling into sturdy fists as the scorn flooded me. Albeit, I didn't detest the Beta for involving himself- surprisingly enough -but at the stupid, arrogant Alpha that inaugurated it all.

I spun around and stormed over to the group, ignoring the teasing catcalls and whistles from the insolent group members as I confronted the Macho-Man himself. He gave me _that look_ \- the one he knew that indicated that he'd gotten on my bad side. Still, all I saw was that smirk - the one that stretched across his face and indented those familiar (yet irritating) dimples on either side of his lips. His eyes got that 'knowing' spark, reflecting a cockiness that ordinary Omegas were bewitched by.

Gross... it was all revolting. Everything about him I couldn't stand.

"Take your _friends_ and stop harassing me, Styles," I hissed, earning a reaction of "Ooh"s from the group members (or his set of desperate puppets hoping to be just as popular someday if they hang around this guy enough - ha, losers). "And for the record- and to remind for the _hundredth time_ -I don't have _any_ interest in flamers."

The second reaction consisted of genuinely appalled murmurs and whispers more than "Ooh"s. It seemed to have also struck a nerve in him because an angry, instantaneous response found itself present in the bitterness of the atmosphere.

"You better apologize to me."

I snorted.

He didn't seem to like that (not that I care), and his face darkened, all glimmer of humour vanished. " _I said_ ," he growled, "you better apologize to me, _sweets_."

Sweets. How many times has he used _that_ one (obviously it got on my nerves, so that's probably why he commonly pulled it out).

I glared at him vigorously.

Five more seconds passed by slowly before I turned on my heel and ambled away, noticing only that the amount of ogles and gawks from the passerbys in the hallway.

"Why don't you make it easier for all of us if you'd just admit you loved me, you stupid omega!"

Betraying tears stung at my eyes then and I bowed my head, trying to conceal my evident pain. Okay. _That_ hurt. But that's what he wanted though, right? To hurt me. He thrived in that - _bathed_ in the glory of knowing he hurt inside.  
Thing was, I didn't understand why.

"I hate you, Harry!" I yelled before fleeing with hotness in my eyes.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

At this point, I'd like to say something stupid and cheesy like "three years later...," like the kind you usually see in ewwy-gooey romance novels, but I feel as though that'd linger some unanswered questions.

So, let me explain.

About a week after that particular encounter, news invaded the high school about how Styles' filthy-rich parents had decided to move away. There was heart-break around the school (even from pathetic omegas Styles had fake flings with), and I felt like I was the only one surreptitiously celebrating that my bully was finally vacating Doncaster. Although, just because he was leaving didn't mean he didn't want one last pick at me. I endured the verbal abuse for those last few weeks, then- _finally_ -Styles disappeared.

I never did see Harry Styles- or his family -ever again.

Although, just because Styles lacked a physical form and presence didn't mean I was free just yet. The mental scars remained tattooed in my brain and- as crazy as it sounds -I could still faintly hears his insults and taunts from down the hallway, along with his pea-brained crew of desperate wannabes. Speaking of whom, even as I was expecting an heir to Styles' legacy, his group never did bother me again after the great and mighty Alpha Football Captain left. As a matter of fact, one of the snotty alphas- Nick or Rick; I can't remember (actually, _Dick_ sounds about right) -who used to always back up Styles with slander actually asked me out.

Yeah.

'Course, the only answer Nick/Rick (I still think it's Dick) got out of that question was a fist in the face... unfortunately, I ended up splintering my damn hand from the fist-on-alpha-skull impact (which was embarrassing, but at least I made a point) and was sent to the hospital for a stupid cast (that was even more embarrassing, but at least it let people know I got to smash an alpha's face in).

... You're probably wondering why I broke my hand just from punching someone's face ( _"yeah, so what if he's an alpha? What does that even mean?"_ ). Well, you see, shape-shifter biology is a lot different than from humans. We're broken up into three genders: alpha, beta and omega. Each one has their own specific colour to represent them, too (you know, how girls are pink and boys are blue kind of thing?). Alphas represent red; betas represent green; omegas represent blue (a light, baby blue, that is).

Betas are the inbetweeners; they're not as strong as alphas, but they're stronger than omegas. Betas are the closest thing to humans than both alphas and omegas combined. Only female betas can give birth, and only male betas can do... well, you know - _the other thing_. Generally, too, is that the male beta is naturally more hunky than the female beta. Also, betas are known generally for their super smarts. There is no explanation for it - they're just natural-born nerds. Unfortunately, I've been too busy being jealous of their advantaging intelligence to poke their nerdiness trait (just kidding - I would never do something like that. Not after knowing myself how it feels).

Alphas are numbskulls (most, anyway; I try not to judge). Ninety-five percent of their body consists of beefy muscle, and the other five percent is smarts. They favor sports over classes in high school - but, above all else, they enjoy omegas. Damn dogs; they drool at the sight of a bulging bum or overflowing breasts.

Although, with that said- and as much as I detest certain alphas -, I can't say some omegas are totally innocent either.

 _Ah-hem_. Omegas are by far the more intelligent gender of the three... okay, I lied; betas are the geniuses (like mentioned previously). But anyway, omegas are seen as lesser just because we're- um, how do you say...? -weaker. We're physically weaker than alphas and betas, and because of this one minuscule aspect, we're apparently "below" alphas and betas. It's not fair, but since when did anyone (other than omegas themselves) care about an omega's opinion?

I'll tell you what: as an omega, I consider myself a proud rebel against society. Nobody favors this opinion (especially those arrogant, I'm-superior-over-you alphas), but since when did I care about _their_ voice?

For god's sake, I punched an alpha in the _face!_ Look me dead in the eyes and tell me that's supposed to be 'omega-like'.

Even though Alphas get their fair share of lectures upon how they should behave or present themselves in a certain way that society desires, omegas get the worse stereo-type abuse. Our image has been painted; apparently it's essential these days that we, as a gender, are slender-figured, submissive ( _holy shit_ , do _not_ forget _this_ one), polite and pretty; also, we're expected to always want to have children.

I know what you're thinking: "You're a guy though! Wtf?" Well, you see, us omegas can give birth regardless of gender. We both have a uterus and all that other stuff needed to create a baby (or babies, usually); the only thing that's different between us is the _way_ we give birth. The way females do is obvious to humans I'm sure, but I'm pretty sure you're illogical in the way a _male_ gives birth.

And honestly, I prefer not to explain that.

... Harry Styles made it his mission to "put me in my place." The Football Captain never glanced my way twice before finding out that I was an omega that preferred _not_ to follow the stereo-types. He was pretty... sexist, you could say. It was disgusting listening to him throw insult after insult about how I should fetch him "some refreshments after the game is done," or how I should "be quiet when another alpha is speaking," or how I should "clean up the locker rooms" because apparently "cleaning is what omegas do best"... or how I don't know anything just because I'm a "stupid omega."

I tried not to let my pain show, and I tried desperately not to feel the pain, but like everyone else, I was like a wall; the more you attack, the more fragile it gets, and eventually, it will break. Fortunately, Styles left before I became officially broken; however, that didn't mean the wounds were just temporary.

And I was happy that I wouldn't ever have to deal with it again; my walls could focus on healing instead of trying to prevent breakage.

But now I'd arrived in College - the birth place of new knowledge for shape-shifters. Here, I'd learn how to properly shift, how to tell a good pack from a bad pack, study the jobs of humans, and even find a mate to obey and live with for the rest of my miserable life!

... Yeah, I was _so_ excited.

'Course, it gets better because this year, Métamorphe College (the College I was attending) was holding the ten-year event, **The Wolf Games** , in its area... which means the other competing Colleges, Universities, Academies, etc would spend some time at ours during the time occupied by **The Wolf Games**. Oh, and only the eligible (as in the most powerful and "of age" students) are permitted to come (in order to not suffocate the capactity of the College).

Oh, and it gets even better than that (notice the sarcasm) because Harry freaking Styles would be joining Métamorphe College this year.

The worst part was I didn't know until I did.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

I gently nudged my college door open, cautiously taking a peek inside, searching for any sign of life. Nothing. My roomate must not be here yet.

I sighed, pushing my way through and shutting the door behind me. Well, this was just _swell_. There were two wooden-framed beds lined up on the left wall; a dresser and a nightstand accompanied each bed (one on either side). Three windows with long, violet curtains took the spaces in the wall where furniture did not occupy it. Fresh sunlight poured through the transparent glass, warming the mahogany below. There were old-fashioned carpets swallowing a large section of the polished floor at the foot of each bed, making the dorm room look like it was in a scary old mansion instead of a college. Ceiling lamps hung graciously above the carpets - they weren't turned on. There was only one mirror and it was on the opposite wall of the door near the one bed, which meant only one of us would own the mirror. There was the occassional accessory such as an eccentric painting nailed to a wall, or a russet pot with freshly-imbedded flowers. Most of the space in the dorm room was meant for personal belongings.

I trudged fully inside the room. I placed my hefty bag of luggage on the floor and decided wait for my roommate to pick first which bed he/she wanted (I had decision issues). Although, just standing and waiting here wasn't going to do anything, so I decided to investigate the new area.

It wasn't that bad... I mean, I found some pretty interesting stuff, and by interesting, all I mean is that it caught my eye.  
Because this part of the college is reserved for _only_  omegas (because apparently Métamorphe didn't believe alphas could control themselves; betas were sometimes exceptions because they weren't known for having a 'love interest' in omegas, but still possessed sensual alpha hormones that still considered them a "threat"), the only things I found were labeled specifically (and only) for omegas. Such things consisted of bottles of blue pills (A.K.A, birth control), pads (for heat), super-absorbent pads (for the poor souls in heat), and... some other things.

There came an abrupt knock on the door; although, apparently the permission for entry wasn't needed because the person came barreling in the room before I could even snap my head to look.

I think any omega on their first day would be a little perplexed if they found a _beta_ entering their dorm room.

His eyes sought me out as he closed the door. I blinked, twice. Was... _this_ my room mate? A _beta?_ Was that even allowed (not that I really cared considering I had pepper spray ready in my bag)?

The beta looked at least twenty judging by the tall, stalwart figure and strong body. Stubs of facial hair lined his strong jaw and peeked underneath his nose. A short crop of brown hair laid on his head, having a rather peculiar interest upward as it swept on its own. His eyes were the same colour as his hair- lovely, chocolate brown -and were below two straight bridges of thick brows. Something about this beta reflected a very mature and responsible vibe...

He spoke before I could. "Hi, I'm Liam."

"Um, Louis."

He leaned forward from his spot and shook my hand in greeting, though I couldn't find the will to shake back. I just stared at him, and he must've caught my puzzled gawking because he soon said, "I know - I'm a beta. Listen, there was an overcapacity in the beta dorms, so they sent me here. I promise you won't have to worry about me."

He let go; my arm dropped stiffly. Something about this beta made me believe him; perhaps it was the geunine puppy-dog eyes or the stern glimmer that insisted he wanted no part of any omega here. He must be straight then. Geez, I didn't even know why I was so concerned in the first place.

Then the thought hit me just as Liam dragged his luggage effortlessly (damn him) over to the opposite bed where I was ('guess we've established who sleeps where then). "Does that mean there's going to be _three_ of us?" There was only two beds!

Liam shrugged as he unzipped one of his bags. "I don't know." He fished out a bundle of several, neatly folded pants. "They just told me to come here."

Great.

Watching Liam, I figured I should've been doing the same thing and started storing my clothes into the dresser drawers. I wasn't too worried; I mean, even if we had another room mate, I didn't bring many clothes to consume the whole space of the drawers, so we could probably share (as long as he/she wasn't glamorously rich).

After a long while, it was becoming a bit hopeless that we'd be receiving another roommate. Liam had finished settling him in and had engrossed himself in a Strange Facts About Humans book to pass the time. I was hoping for a conversation, but I was also fine with just lounging on my new bed.

It was probably ten minutes (ten minutes of loud, awkward silence) before the door swung open again - literally _swung_ open.  
My head jerked. Standing at the door was a young, sylphlike boy, and unlike Liam, this boy looked no older than twenty. He had honey-blond hair that was neat and swept upward - kinda like Liam's. His eyes were light and blue. He appeared to be about the same height as me - maybe taller. Regardless, it was obvious this boy was an omega.

"Hi," I greeted.

"Hey," he replied casually. Then, he awkwardly pointed to himself. "Niall."

"Hi, Niall. I'm Louis."

Niall smiled benevolently at me. He seemed to have that bright, elated vibe - the kind that's inviting and caused you to want to be around him. Right away, I knew I would enjoy having Niall here with us.

"That's Liam," I told him, pointing to the beta. Liam did not respond -nor even stir- at the mention of his name. It was clear the boy had vacated reality and was drowning deeply in the world of his book. I wrinkled my nose. "Erm... he's not quite attentive right now, but he's a nice boy."

"He's a beta," Niall said blankly. The observation wasn't rude; Niall was just surprised. His brows were knitted together as if he were worried and his eyes were reflecting a concoction of confusion and interest.

"Yeah, um, apparently there were too many betas so they sent Liam down here."

Niall blinked. "You mean... we're going to be sharing a dorm with a _beta?_ "

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Niall looked to me and suddenly a merry change of mood sprinkled on his face. "Alrighty then!" He sauntered over to and plonked his suitcase on the bed not occupied by Liam. He turned to me. "Which side of the bed do you want?"

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

After settling in and becoming more comfortable with each other, Niall had braced my arm and basically tore me from the bed in an earnest yearning to drag me with him to the "Craft's Fair". Apparently it had something to do with outside on the campus. I'd asked Liam, but the beta was adamant on not following and returned to his books. That boy had a strange immense intrigue in humans, and I didn't know whether to feel concerned or just leave the beta to his interests.

"Ah, just leave the nerd to 'is studies," Niall jeered, his Irish accent poking through his words.

I glanced down to Niall's sunkissed hand secured my forearm. He wasn't hurting me but _Jesus Christ_ where did this boy get his _juice?_ For an omega -a small, lean Omega- he was pretty powerful. He didn't even _look_ rugged or muscular, yet his grip was like iron.

Niall pried open the door and hurried out. I'd barely been able to shut and lock it before the eager omega had tugged me roughly, fervently yanking me in the direction of the campus. There were a few omegas in the hallways, but non (thankfully) shot us awkward, disapproving glares.... well, 'course they didn't - they were _omegas_. It was a common omega trait to be polite and avoid conjecturing others. If we were in a building with betas, it'd be a different story. Betas tend to be dour and pushy on good manners, so if they see someone acting unconventional, they'll either judge harshy with morose, sour glares or say something to cease the unwonted behaviour. They were polite, but judged too often for good health.

The Campus was massive. Planted on top of fresh green grass were rows and rows of sporatic booths with large posters and signs designed to attract attention from the roving young people investigating the Fair. The numerous booths made the Campus look colourful and fetching; the heaps of people made it look intimidating.

Niall abruptly wrenched my arm. "Come on, Louis!" he beamed in an elated breath, forcefully escorting me into the midst of the Fair.

My head wheeled around vigorously as I attempted to absorb all the booths at once. Niall had slowed, perhaps to check them out too, which gave me the opportunity to recognize the Drama Club, Writer's Club, Art Show...

"Jesus, we must be in the bloody Arts part of the Fair," Niall bellowed. He manumitted my arm (thank-god!) and turned to me. "Look, how 'bout we split up, Lou? It's not fair if I hav'ta drag you to where _I_ wanna go while you wanna go somewhere else."

I surreptitiously rubbed my raw forearm. "Um, sure. Yeah."

Niall grins widely. "Great! I'll meet you back 'ere then?"

"Sure."

I watched as the blonde Omega gave a brisk wave of Good-bye before prancing off. I smiled to myself; that boy was a bagful of energy. Even though I hardly knew Liam, I'd surmised the beta enjoyed his solitude, which was a developing concern on its own because I wasn't sure how the beta would feel sharing a dorm room with an ebullient puppy like Niall.

Loquacious people past back and forth as I meandered through the Fair. The sun was alive and aggressive today, and I was cursing myself for choosing to wear a bloody hoodie. The hoodie was pure black and, unfortuntely, poured over my mid-thighs, which simmered a resent in my belly everytime I thought about it. My mum had accidentally bought me a small-sized hoodie in the _alpha_ section of the store when shopping for my birthday presents, but because I hated to break her heart, I chose not to exchange it and kept it. My previous friends had chafed and barked mockingly when they discovered how baggy it looked on me. I know they were just badgering me, but the effects of the name-calling had eventually started to burn through my shell and I'd almost cried the few last times they'd prodded me on the subject.

I insolently read the signs as I passed. I'd probably been wandering for ten minutes before one of the booths actually provoked me to stop. My body tingled with interest as I read " **THE WOLF GAMES** " scrawled in thick, red paint on the booth's colossal sign. The sign of this booth was very prominent and demanded attention, making itself seem more significant than the rest of the Fair.

I approached the table. The two alphas whom I assumed were managing the booth were both busy chatting up some coquettish omega girls. I scoffed lowly and ghosted my fingers hesitantly over the stack of flyers before grabbing one and flipping it open. My eyes attached immediately onto the mini pictures displaying glimpses of this event from the past. There were alphas shifted into their grisly wolf form side-by-side and, from what it appeared to be, racing each other.

Alphas are massive in both human and wolf form; as tall as horses, yet with shaggy, grimacing fur and mountains of thick muscles underneath the coat. Betas resembled alphas, but tended to be less beefy and much more lean and slimed, yet muscular nontheless. Omegas... well, omegas were evidently the smallest and weakest (as much as I hated to admit it).

As shape-shifters, our bodies naturally released more hormones than humans (well, betas were the closet thing to humans; the only difference was the fact that betas turned into monstrous wolves). Omegas received an extra gush of estrogen and, even though alphas practically leaked testosterone from their pores. The average height of an alpha was six feet or higher; the average height for an omega was five foot four and _maybe_ higher. I was lucky to be five foot seven (even though I lied that I was five nine).

What I noticed about the pamphlet was that it only featured depicts of alphas. Sure, it mentioned the occassional beta, but there was nothing on omegas. It was as if omegas were banned from this event...

"Hey, you gonna eat the rest of that hot dog?"

A low, masculine voice rumbled from behind me. It seemed to stand out from the chatters and murmurs of the passerbys, though I didn't know why. Frankly, I didn't really care; I just continued to blankly read over the pamphlet.

"I don't know," a new, gravelly voice replied. "I'm so full it's making me sick... but I'd rather puke than let you have it."

I seemed to be involuntarily picking up on their conversation. It was like I was half-eavesdropping. It might've also had something to do with them advancing towards the same table I was at, thus their voices became more developed and coherent.

" _Wow_ ," the other one said flatly - unimpressed. "Your pride overrides you."

"Shut up, Grimshaw," the raspy one snapped, irked. "Don't be a whiney little bitch."

"Don't be a rude grump," the other chided, yet there was a playful, goading spice to his tone, almost as if he were egging on his friend, trying to stimulate some interesting reaction.

"Your presence is the cause of my grumpiness."

"I'm flattered."

"Go die somewhere, Grimshaw." The raspy one was getting snippy, and he was getting snippy fast. Must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

Paper shuffled to my right; I assumed one of the two must've just picked up a pamphlet. Upon a small crinkling noise, a few seconds pass before one of the boys -the non-snippy one- commented, "So _this_ is **The Wolf Games**."

The response from his friend is brusque and obnoxious. "Let me see that." The harsh sounds of rough hands on paper emitted, then ceased. A moment passed by before Mr. Snippy piped up again, his voice plain. "This is bullshit."

"Why's that?" his friend mused, completely unfazed that the pamphlet had just been rudely snatched from him a few seconds ago. He must have a super tolerance for his unmannerly friend here...

"They expect us to partner up with some beta of their choosing."

There was a deliberate pause. "Enlighten me with the fault in that."

A scoff. "The fault," he started, scoffing gruffly again, "is that betas are judgemental little shits who always have some annoying reason to pester you about what you did wrong. People say they follow orders, but they're really just some egotistical nerds."

"I don't mean to sound rude -well, actually I do- but that was quite the hyprocrisy... well, except for the nerd part because, let's be honest, you're as smart as a- "

I nearly yelped when I felt a massive, hefty body collide with me, roughly shoving me almost to the ground if I hadn't of gripped the table. Immediately, however, the person recovered and, upon realizing, placed a large hand tenderly on my side. The gentleness and compassion gushed from the single touch and, all at once, I comprehended the identity of behind the hand: alpha - must be. Only an alpha would make this gesture toward a complete stranger (one of the particular sex, that is).

"Shit- sorry about that. You okay, hon?" he asked.

I felt my heart speed up and heat my chest. "Yeah. 'M fine. Thanks," is all I said before gathering my pamphlet again. That didn't seem to get the message across though.

"Sorry. My buddy here just felt the necessary need to push me right into you."

"It's okay," I replied simply. _Go away_.

"Yeah... I didn't hurt you, did I?" There was only a little genuinity to his question; the rest, I assumed, was to prolong conversation. Still, I didn't want to ignore him like a cold person, yet I didn't desire this conversation, so I kept my replies to a dull, uninteresting minimum, hoping that he'll eventually take the hint and _go_.

"No. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

Holy shit. " _Yes_ ," I grounded out through my clenching teeth, half-hoping I didn't sound _too_ rude.... then again, you probably have to be rude to someone who's being pushy and obstinate.

There's a short awkward silence before the alpha's attention is diverted to over me. "Nice job, numbnuts, you pushed me into the poor little omega here."

Did he just call me "poor little"? Sigh. Too bad I was accustomed to it. I'd learnt it was simply in an alpha's nature to refer to omegas -their counterpart- as delicate, tiny things. I guess the idea built on them as time grew by with them always literally looking down on us.

"Omega?" A pause. "Oh... oops, my bad, I guess. Didn't hurt him, did you, Grimshaw?"

I felt my gut pulling. He'd accidentally toppled into me, and yet they were acting like I'd died. At least, that was how it seemed for... Grimshaw? (That couldn't be his actual name, but, anyway) The other one seemed to be teetering on the edge of deride; heedless, like he was possessed by the belief that everything was not his fault.

"Nah," Grimshaw answered coolly, "said he was fine." I felt his hand land on my shoulder and induce a small squeeze.

Okay, _no_.

I irefully shook the unwanted touch off. I couldn't divulge his reaction, nor frankly did I want to, but I was just glad the alpha hadn't resumed touching me like a pig. It's happened before, and I'd broken my hand a few times trying to teach them a lesson of respect. Maybe it was their covet to invade an omega's privacy -to always yearn for touch- but we're civilized people, and so I don't accept these unwelcomed advances, not even if they're gentle and 'harmless'.

"Mm, for once you're right about something though," Grimshaw's friend mused, his tone turning velvety with concupiscence (disgusting), "he _is_ little."

'M not that little...

"You're making that creepy face again, Harry. I talked to you about that, remember?" Grimshaw said, then, after a few slow seconds, sighed crossly. "Besides, you half-wit, all omegas tend to be. It's nothing new."

" _You're_ small."

An offended, cutting growl rumbled. "If you want to insult me, Styles, at least do it somewhere where I won't accidentally hit someone that's not you."

Wait... _Styles?_

"You are small." The reply is cool and amused.

"That's inadequate," Grimshaw hissed, sharp and vexed. "I am the same height as you, Styles, so to call _me_ small would indicate you're calling _yourself_ small."

"You know, for an alpha, you're really starting to sound like a beta, Grimshaw," he replied, a steaming hatred building in his tone. Not towards his friend, but towards the green gender.

A pressing shuffle inaugerated to my right, sending immediate warnings throughout my system. My blood hurried hot and fast through my veins as I felt the licks of the alpha's radiating cloak of body heat. An instinctive shiver quaked through me. I dared myself not to look up, but my impulse overrode me.

There, towering to my right, was the one person I'd hoped never to see again.

He must've noticed my movement from the corner of his eye because his eyes locked with mine at the same time. I tried to maintain my fearful shivering, but my adrenaline forbid me. I wanted to burn into the ground and spend the rest of my life in China; overpopulated, but at least nobody would be _him_.

My head was literally arched back as I had no other choice but to look _up_. I never had to do this in high school; at least, not bend my neck like I was doing now. Jesus Christ, I knew he was alpha, but had the growth spurt been hibernating inside him the entire time we were in high school together? I'd say he was a good several inches taller than me. I despised how I felt like a mouse compared to him. I mean, I always felt like that in high school when around him, but now - now it felt surreal.

Everything about this boy -this _man_ -boy- screamed "alpha". Puberty had smashed unforgivingly into him like a freight train. God had definitely not prepared me for what I was about to witness; this boy was the shadow of a Greek god with his golden skin, broad torso (his whole form was basically muscle), shoulder-length umber brown curls, and perfectly structured face; his jaw was sharp, his pink lips plump, and his eyes were a ring of dusky green lava assisted by the siege of dark lashes and thin, ebony brows that hovered above.

Amusement crept onto his face immediately; his brow raised cheekily and the corner of his lips arched, indenting a cherub dimple. 'Least not all of him has changed; those infamous dimples were the one thing that everybody recognized him by. They were his bodily devices that enabled flirting to be effortless; one simple smirk and the omegas would turn to goo under his gaze. The only reason he pulled them on me was to arouse my hostility. He said he enjoyed my "feistiness", which only fueled my hate fire of him. I wasn't feisty; I was indignant.

"Well, well," he mused like a purring snake, " _hello_ , Mr. Tomlinson. I did not expect you to be here."

Asssiduously staring down at the pamplet in my hands, I refused to look at him. "Where exactly did you expect me to be then?" I retorted, desperately trying to simultaneously restrain my fear and anger towards this boy. In my anxiety, I'd accidentally scored and bunched up the pamphlet with my nails.

He hummed. "Well, with three years to gain, I'd expected you have _some_ intelligence by now and realized all along that you were wrong and I was right. Or, in other words, I expected little Tommo here to be in a home right now cleaning his alpha's house."

My skin inflamed with resentful hotness as my hands clenched, severly crumpling the pamphlet, but I didn't care. I bit my lip as an effort to contain myself because as much as I desperately wanted to plant my fist in his face, I couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd successfully gotten under my skin (and also I preferred not to break my fist again, especially on the first week of College).

"Harry!" Grimshaw hollered, appalled.

"What?" His reply was flat and innocent-sounding as if he wasn't aware of the vulgarity he'd just spouted. Just the typical tone of your everyday asshole.

"We're not in the twentieth century, twat. Omegas are entitled to independence just like everybody else."

"To a point," Harry implied, and even though he was conversing with his friend, his words had a smooth, sly path that bounded straight to me.

Venomous words frothed in my mouth, but I trapped my lips, forbidding myself from stooping to his level. _It's what he wants_ , I tried to remind myself, _it's what he wants_. 'Course, I was teetering on the edge of a nail here. I was seething with the yearn to guiltlessly shred his stupid face - make him hurt and feel the pain of my hatred and misery.

"Freedom has no point - except when it comes in contact with the law, but nontheless. Styles, you're a bloody horrid person. Should feel ashamed of yourself for making such a comment to a stranger," Grimshaw chastised.

He really did sound like a beta... either he grew up with them or shrewdness was already written in his DNA. Either way, this guy was _one-hundred percent_ alpha; I could tell solely by his scent. I wasn't judging him; it was a scientific fact that omegas could smell if a person was a hybrid (two mixed genders) or just one gender.... but perhaps that's a conversation for another time.

"Quite the contrary," Harry said, undisturbed. "Louis here knows me very well, as I for him. I can delight you with the many stories of our high school experiences together, though I'm sure Louis would prefer to have the honour in that. He's knows me very well, don't you, Louis?"

"Unfortunately," I muttered darkly, though I immediately regretted the one simple word from escaping my mouth when I felt the threatening heat of Harry enclosing towards me. I didn't have to look to know he was already towering over me.

I regretted spilling my comment, yet I felt a delighted pride fill me at the same time. Harry'd always castted a dominant shadow over me, announcing his higher value than me. Because I'd always been a quiet mouse in high school, it must've convinced Harry that I was yielding to him -accepting that he was better than me- so at times when I'd had enough and actually piped up, it'd taken the narcissistic alpha off guard and caused a feeling of pique to surge to the surface.

The closeness of the exasperated alpha seemed to burn crisply in the air carrying between us. He was expressing his dominance; it was a common alpha instinct when encountered with smart-mouthed or disobedient omegas. In this case, that was me; the nasty, sinful, rebellious omega your parents warned you about. In the old days, it was legitimately known as a _sin_ for omegas to flout an alpha or beta, and because Harry had been raised into that mindset from his traditional family, he viewed me as a "broken omega", but instead of wielding the power of his popularity to turn everyone against me, he decided with the alternative and tried to "fix me" (or so that's was what he called it). I detested him for it, but I guess that was what provoked him.

I could now see not much has changed....

As his spicy, dark cologne scent swathed the air and attempted to dominate mine, I could feel his alpha's insistent message to _submit now, omega_ , but I refused to give him that gratification. We were older now - I was _stronger_ now (and obviously so was he). I shouldn't have to waste my energy on some alpha from my past.

"You're being rude to me on the first day, Louis," he whispered to me, tone lined with scold, "and I don't think I like that."

"I don't care," I bravely rebuked.

Instantly, Harry's large, rough hand trapped around my arm, forcing a sharp, startled breathe out my lungs. His hold was purposely tight, wordlessly reminding me of my 'mistake'. Trepidation was like sharp static in my veins when suddenly (and miraculously) someone else intervened, crowding the space inbetween Harry and I - strong and warningly.

"Harry," Grimshaw said, pacifying, yet with a hint of threat. His voice was cool and confident and... empathetic? Either he'd dealt with an angry Harry before or he'd experienced the danger of allowing your crossed alpha to govern your emotions.

The duo lingered, the air just tensing and solidifying with the emits of their dominance. Ten seconds past with just Harry's hand locked rigidly around my arm, heatedly debating whether he should hold on, ignore Grimshaw and continue with his lecture with me, or listen to his friend and cage his bitter Wolf and let me go. I was hoping for the latter.

I waited, feeling the inevitable awkwardness seep into the tense atmosphere when abruptly Harry's grasp was unchained and I was freed. I was flushed with relief, yet startled at the same time; _Harry Styles_ -the super dominant, I-am-better-than-every-single-creature-on-this-planet alpha- was giving in? And just like that? Was I missing something ('course, there'd been Harry's three year abscence from my life, which could've potentially been the time frame where something unthinkable happened, like Harry learning some sense about others' rights and that this indeed was no longer the 20th century).

"I take you as many things, Harry; a person with a disgusting lack of anger management, a sexually frustrated fouteen-year-old trapped inside a nineteen-year-old's body, but a _bully_ is not one of them," Grimshaw harangued, disapproval charring his tone. Seconds pass again, then Grimshaw leant towards Harry and whispered, "Please don't tell me you tortured this poor boy in high school, Harry."

"'Course not," Harry suddenly answered coolly and without missing a single beat. "I was giving sweets here free daily lessons on how to properly act around your superiors."

I fumed.

"Superiors," Grimshaw upbraided, repeating Harry with a sharp derision. "You really are stuck in the 20th century."

"Shut up, Nick." Nick? Was that Grimshaw's first name?

"Excuse my, gentlemen, but can I help you with anything?" a new voice entered the situation, cooling it slightly with his calm, adult-like chime. Even though Harry was an aggressively dominant alpha, even _he_ still had superiors.

There was momentary pause. "No, sir," Grimshaw said, "we were just leaving," another pause, " _right_ , Harry?"

I could feel Harry's lambasting stare searing right through me. Irrevocably, I still refused to look at him. Avoiding eye contact was a common trigger to an alpha's irritation. Apparently it was a sign of disrespect, and if I know anyone, Harry was the number one person to recognize that. Still, looking at him was dreadful.

Harry did not speak, but I comprehended the slight shifting in Harry's shoes as he moved to turn and walk away... but he never actually did walk away. That was until he leant closer to me and whispered hotly in my ear, "see you later, sweets," then left. _Just like that_. The footfalls of their shoes carried them away without another word as I was left writhing in my own tiny, tight bubble of disturb and fright.

"Son."

I nearly yelped at the adult male's voice directing to me. I swallowed thickly, realizing only then how dry my throat was, and looked up at the balding man.

"Are you okay?" He was strict by nature, yet sympathetic and gentle when speaking to me.

"Y-yeah, um." I nodded my head, trying not to dizzy myself with my furious anxiety already swarming madly in my head. I- er, I'm fine. Thanks."

The teacher looked unconvinced. "Would you like me to escort you back to your dorm room?"

I shook my head, this time with caution not to overexert myself. "No. It's fine. I'm okay." It was a lie, but I really didn't want to be treated like a helpless omega who needed supervision.

"Okay," he said, unpersuaded, yet lenient with my decision. "Off you go then."

I nodded and ducked away. I scrambled away from the booth; I wasn't really interested anyway. Regardless, I hadn't realized I'd accidentally kept the pamphlet when I unconsciously clenched my fingers, my sense of touch sparking against the paper. I glanced down at it, regretting ever looking at in the first place, and crumpled it in my fist, shovng it remorselessly into my baggy hoodie pocket.

That's when....

"LOUIS!!"

My adrenaline spiked when a body collided with me, forcefully enveloping me into a hug. I struggled instinctively, whimpering against the solid embrace, praying not for my death. I came to my senses when a puzzled and offended voice chirped, "Louis, it's me". Niall. My body reluctantly ceased, relaxing slightly into the other omega's embrace, unconsciously inhaling his familiar minty, sweet scent, and realizing, _yes_ , this _is_ Niall.

"Jesus, Louis, you okay there?" he asked, reeling away from me to view my face.

I blinked up at him, immediately finding relief in another omega's presence, and smiled, mustering a small nod. I was okay now.... but only just for now. The next time I see Harry Styles.... maybe not so much. And being stuck in a College with him, it just made the chances inevitable.


	2. avoιdιng

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Style is becoming a issue in Louis's life, so there must be only one thing to do: avoid the asshole at all costs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated, but... here it is! I admit I was being pretty picky with this chapter and how I wanted it to go (which is kinda why it took me so long to update), but I hope you like this chapter.

 

 

There was a Sports store ("SS Sports"; or, in other words, "Shape-Shifter Sports") nearby the college - a pleasant walking distance from my dormroom. Job openings were being advertised by one of the booths in the Fair and had a group consisting only of alphas promoting the store. They had divulgd the sad truth that, because they were older now and therefore moving on to start families, getting a real job, etc, the store needed new employees. I enjoyed football in public school and high school, so it didn't take long for me to mull over the idea of taking this job before I realized my legs were already guiding me in the direction of the store.

Niall hadn't possessed even the sheer objection when I told him I was basically leaving him.... but that might've been because he had a sparked a new-found "friendship" with an alpha fellow in the Fair. I figured it was best anyway to allow the omega to thrive to his own desires without having an anchor (a friend) to carry around, so it thankfully diminished the guilt to an insignificant minimum.

To my surprise, there weren't many people in the store. Actually, there weren't _any_ when I arrived. I'd briefly thought for a few seconds (while in the midst of my humiliation) if I'd just barged into a store that wasn't even open yet (though that wouldn't've explained the unlocked doors...). I backed up and inspected the entrance for any hints. _Open_ , the entrance sign read, emphasized in conspicuous, neon letters. _Well, that was a clear answer_.

I ambled awkwardly into the store, unsure. Why was it so empty? Was I early? Was I too late? The store's speakers spilled out hums of music; it was the only sound in the store, which only added to the sticky awkwardness.

I'd just wheeled around the corner of golf supplies when I caught sight of a person- _a boy_ -heaving a wooden box from a room in the back. I sighed in relief. At least _someone_ was here.

My feet picked up hastily, carrying me towards the stranger. "Hi," I said.

His head immediately jerked in my direction, his eyes wide and his brows arched as if I'd accidentally startled him, but then -upon seeing me- he calmed evidently and gave a slight, yet friendly smile in greeting.

"Hey," he replied flatly as he carried the large box over to a table, "you must be here for the job." He plonked the box down on a black-blue table, heedless of the values inside as it landed with a hard thud. "You're, um.... it was Lewis, wasn't it?"

"Louis," I sighed.

"Oh, sorry." The apology was blank. _Wow, did this guy ever know how to make friends...._ "I'm Josh." He extended out a greeting hand. I took it and shook, retracting. "I will be your manager here for the time being."

I nodded and gave Josh a quick once-over. Beta - had to be. He was definitely robust, but he was too short to be an alpha (five-five, give-or-take). Also, his odour smelled of pine wood and something fresh, not the typical scent alphas carried which was of dark cologne and something spicy. A beta couldn't alter their scent unless they injected themselves with alpha hormones. A shape-shifter's scent was something that came naturally; it couldn't be masked by petty perfumes or whatever items the humans used.

The tapping of a new pair of feet caused me to twist my head. Approaching was (from what it seemed to be) an alpha, perhaps the same age as me - maybe a year older. He was wearing a black T-shirt, which revealed the collection of tattoos colouring the sunkissed skin of his arms. His hair was an inky-black quiff and his facial features were sharp ('specially his jawbone) and stunning.

"Hey, 'm Zayn," the mystery boy said cooly, giving a deadpanned Josh a swift handshake. "Hope 'm not too late."

Zayn's lashes were thick and dark with masquara, giving him a more shadowy appearance. This boy was dark-appealing in general. I really hoped I'd never accidentally (because I'd never _purposefully_ ) get on this alpha's bad side.

Josh simply shook his head. "No. You're fine." His palm fell on the surface of the box like dead weight as he maintained eye contact with us. "Now, since I believe you're the only ones here, I'd like the new golf equipment here to be shashed away in their correct places." Upon our doubting looks, he added, "You'll learn your way around this place soon enough. First things first though, I need you two to change into your correct uniforms; although, I'm sure you've worked at Tim Hortons or something before, so I'm sure you don't need me to tell you these procedures." He studied our faces. "Yes?"

"Yeah."

"Yes."

"Good." Josh looked over his shoulder. "The office is over there." He returned to us. "You can go in there on break or when changing, but don't ever go into _my_ office. If I find out you do, I'll fire your asses. One important thing you should know about me is that I have _zero_ tolerance for naughty pups, got it?"

We both nodded.

"'Kay." Josh sighed, slightly irked as if he had to repeat himself. "Now, because you two are in that crazy hormonal stage in life and will be spending some time together, I have to remind you that this is a _workplace_ and sex is _not_ allowed here. I don't care what happens outside your job as long as nothing... _weird_ goes on here."

We both nodded again, except slower and more hesitant - _awkward_.

"Right, that's just great," Josh mumbled, turning away and begun sauntering away. "If you two need anything, _please_ hesitate to ask."

I blinked, twice, watching as my new manager disappeared around the corner. Suddenly, I wasn't so passionate about this job... perhaps God was just testing me though.

"Well," came a low, slightly disturbed voice, "erm... 'least he's responsible. 'S a lot better than my last boss."

"Yeah," I agreed casually. "What was your last boss like?"

Zayn shrugged, lips curling. "Just a douche. This one is _nice_ compared to him."

My brows raised. "Oh."

I strolled over to the box lying idly on the table, unopened....  _Shit_. Josh didn't give us scissors. I'd never been here before; how did he expect us to automatically know where the scissors (or something sharp) are?

"Here." Zayn offered a switchblade he'd produced from the pocket of his dark, tight and slightly torn jeans. He held it delicately behind his fingers; just the appearance of his hand gave me a mischievous, bad-boy vibe.

"Thanks," I said quietly, accepting the object.

I knew how to work these (thankfully) and instinctively switched to the knife, careful not to accidentally cut myself and began incising the nose of the dangerous blade down the middle of the box's tape. Done, I ripped open the box, revealing the glamorously new sets of golf balls, tees, clubs, etc. I handed Zayn his malicious item back.

"Your welcome," he said cheekily after taking it and shoving it back into his impossibly tight pocket. What was this boy doing walking around in tight, black clothes? I mean, 'course he was super fit and well enough to wear these without the trouble of ridicule, but _Jesus Christ_ it was a bleeding hot outside! The colour black is an automatic attraction to the sun and the tightness only cages in the heat.

"What's your name?" Zayn asked as I fished through the golf supplies.

"Louis," I answered, scooping out a handful of golf clubs. _Now where did these go..._

"Louis?" he asked, suddenly agog. "As in Louis Tomlinson?"

I ceased my movements and turned to him, startled... and a little uneasy. How... how did this guy -whom I barely knew- already know my name? It was the first day of college - my name hasn't even been mentioned on an attendance sheet; nobody could possibly know who I was... well, other than Niall and Liam, but I'd only known them for a few hours; why would they talk about _me?_

"Yes...," I answered, slow and muddled.

"Ah." Zayn held a bag of pink golf balls that he'd selected from the box, staring at it assiduously in his palm.

"Why do you ask?" the question flew- _torn_ -right through my lips without my consent. It was so simple, yet it held so much earnesty and plea for an answer.

Zayn raised his ebony eyes to me. His face was placid, yet he looked skeptical, as if startled by the question, though he composed himself rather quickly, eliminating any evidence that could potentionally disrupt his 'cool' image.

"Well, aren't you the one that Harry Styles keeps talking about?"

It seemed like time itself just _slowed_. My insides tensed sickeningly at that name and I could feel the slow, yet hammering thud of my own heart belaboring against my ribcage. _Harry Styles_. My stomach renched anxiously. Just the sound of his name had an effect on me. And... _"keeps talking about"?_ Wha- I was so confused.... and terrified... I didn't believe that the boy I'd just seen _ten minutes ago_ was talking about _me_ , but regardless I threaded through the files in my mind of ideas of why he would chose a topic about me. He hated me!.... Well, okay, _a lot_ of people prattle about those who they detest, but come on; Harry Styles choosing to talk about _me?_ Not likely.

"I don't know... I'm never around when he does talk about me," I responded artfully, and, as casually as possible (even though my hands were shaking), slotted the golf clubs into the racks holding several others.

I heard Zayn snicker. "Ah, okay." He glanced at the bag of golf balls in his hand and weighed the contents monotonously before looking at me. "So... think you can help me find where these go?"

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

I decided not to think about Harry Styles after that. Unfortunately, he did stick at the back of my mind like a tumor, but at every chance a memory attempted to float to the surface, I shut down my thoughts completely. I admit it'd been bugging me - the whole _"aren't you the one that Harry Styles keeps talking about?"_ , but I absolutely _refused_ to confront it. I made the mental declaration that -from now on- anything Harry Styles-related was _forbidden_.

Thankfully, I did not encounter my high school bully during the first week. It'd been rather uneventful, but it was fine as long as Styles wasn't involved. I'd come to the conclusion long ago that I'd rather watch paint dry than to see his ugly (attractive) face.

.... Okay. Styles, I admit (much to my castigation), was rather... _pleasant_ -looking. On the day of the Fair, I surreptitiously found the alpha to be rather... attractive. 

God, I was so shit-faced.

Even though I was physically attracted to him, I was still compelled to avoid him at _all costs_. I knew what this guy was capable of, and I wanted _no_ part of that - regardless of attraction. Sometimes (well, actually, most of the time) I wanted to find Heaven and give God some chocolates for giving me such strong willpower. It made me feel empowered- _independent_ -and I clung to that trait like it was my last and only jar of Nutella.

On Friday the following week (four days into college), the sky was looking grey and sick and the clouds were dark and pregnant with water. Much to everyone's frustration, the weather was being moody and rained on and off. I'd concluded that Mother Nature was simply on her period, but nobody would listen to me...

I didn't have classes nor work on Friday, so the day was pretty dull and filled with tedious Psychology homework. I was hoping to be a therapist someday because of how intriguing I found the mind, but the homework was nearly unbarable. I found this worrisome as it was only the _first week_ (not even) and it'd only get worse from there. I blamed my stress mostly on the consciousness that Harry Styles's presence was looming around this place constantly, but with all the junk clotting in my head, I knew that I needed to clear my mind, and that meant leaving my dormroom - leaving my homework.

For some reason, practise for the football team had not been canceled. It hadn't rained for over two hours, but that didn't change the threatening grey overhead. _Those guys're idiots_ , I'd thought as I watched solid bodies bashing into each other repeatedly just before hypocritically droning on my rain jacket (just in case) and jogging out to the field. I'd seen an internship for football coaching in the Sports section of the Fair, but never actually divulged my interest by picking up the bloody paper, for which I was currently detesting myself for.

The coach who was currently supervising the alphas was dazed when I approached him and explained to him my situation. Fortunately, he was laid-back and -though with doubtful eyes- allowed me to stay and observe, but only that.

I felt gross when I'd impulsively surveyed the identities of the sea of toned bodies and wolfish grins for a particular mat of curly hair and face dimples. 'Course, I was relieved to discover God had blessed me again with another Harry Styles abscence... yet- _obviously_ -that did not diminish my paranoia.

"Do you live around here, Louis?" the coach asked in a friendly, it's-getting-awkward-so-I'm-gonna-start-a-conversation manner.

"No, sir. I'm from Doncaster."

Métamorphe College was located deep in Kniver Forest in the human city of Staffordshire. The College was concealed by any and all humans as only Shape-Shifters could enter the spelled veil that surrounded the College. Fortunately, no human ever set foot near the veil to alert other humans about the strange, forbidding barrier due to the spells our warlocks had webbed throughout the forest atmosphere. It had an unexplainable effect on a human's malleable mind that disinterested them to ventue further and, inevitably, forced them to turn back.

He pursed his lips, thinking. "That's not too far."

"No," I agreed plainly.

"Have you always enjoyed football?"

I nodded. "Yes, I have." _If that means me just playing in high school..._

The coach and I contined in a casual (yet tensely awkward) conversation beside the field. The coach had occassionally yelled at a few alphas who were meddling on the field and not doing what they were supposed to (gross; they wouldn't stop glancing at me). When I watched the alphas despair and obey, I surmised the coach must be an alpha too; only another alpha who's older and more experienced can have an authoritative effect on fiesty young ones like that.

"Hem- Hemmings! Use your- _Jesus Christ_ -use your bloody _feet_ , boy! Use your- _yeah!_ There you go! Wasn't that hard to figure out, wasn't it?" the coach yelled to a particular boy struggling on the field.

Two minutes after "Hemmings" had missed the goal, the coach called him over, lambasting him under his breath. I glared at the coach under my fringe for harshly reprimanding a boy who was simply trying, yet didn't succeed. Was this how they motivated alphas?- because, if so, that was pretty shameful of them.

"Hemmings, Luke- whatever... What. The. _HELL?"_ the coach chastised, venom spitting in the form of saliva from his mouth. "Have you played football _at all_ in your life before?"

The boy ducked his head, golden hair flopped over his face in shame. "Yes, sir," and in a moment of guilt, he muttered, "'M sorry, sir."

I honestly felt a pinge of sympathy for the boy. Yes, he was an alpha, and generally alphas were known to be self-sufficient and didn't care what others thought, but the part society missed was that these creatures (as hideous as some may have been) had feelings, too. I tried not to judge all of them too harshly because of this. I knew logically that not _all_ of them were like a particular malicious someone....

"Well, I don't want to see it again, Hemmings. Do better, or we might just have to find a replacement for you," the coach admonished.

I watched the unraveling situation, utterly disappointed, yet frustrated that I couldn't intervene without losing my chances of receiving an internship.... though, after witnessing this, I wasn't sure I wanted one anymore...

"Yes, sir," and then, with his imaginary tail tucked between his legs, Luke scurried off, closing to himself insecurely.

I watched the alpha-boy return to the field without peeling my eyes away once. My omega instincts were surfacing, demanding to comfort the distressed alpha, but I restrained myself. _Not now..._

"Well," the coach said, perking up, "that's all for today, Mr... er..." "

Tomlinson."

"Yes! Thank-you. Mr. Tomlinson." He hummed as he nodded. "Well, if you're still interested in an internship, you can drop by tomorrow at my office around noon to fill out the paper."

I concurred stalely and the coach gave me his card that located his office in the College building. I sauntered off back towards the College just as the alphas begun packing up and the clouds weighed darkly in the sick sky.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

"You just don't _understand_ , Liam," Niall whined at the obscenely late hour of one-twenty-five that night, dragging out a repitive quarell with the beta that'd been occurring for nearly _two hours_ now - just long enough for me to consider stabbing myself in the foot with my pencil, "omegas have it _way_ worse than you betas do."

"Not in every cases, Niall," Liam bickered back calmly, his eyes assiduously attached to the open book balanced on his lap, yet his mind focused on the battling omega (a common beta trait: multi-tasking). "You see, with us, our first gender homosexuality is frowned upon, whereas with you, first gender does not apply as long as it's an alpha."

"Yeh- _see!_ ," Niall squealed in that I-got-you-now voice, "an _alpha!_ It _always_ has to be an alpha. Liam, I think you're missing the part where _we_ have to be seen with someone in specific or else we're frowned upon, too."

"Are you saying you'd _want_ to be with someone who's not an alpha, Niall?" Liam questioned, peering up from his book, narrow glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. His eyes are self-assured and intelligent - very, _very_ intelligent. He looked so graceful, like an experienced professor dealing with a fiesty student.

Niall opened his mouth, probably to say some bold, snappy reply, but hesitated and clamped his lips shut, his eyes falling instantaneously. He refused to look at the beta (for once) as frustration reflected in the pale blue of his irises. His face wrinkled, words struggling on his lips. It was awkward watching the omega not have some sassy remark already composed, but it was also interesting to see the bitter juices of defeat settle on Niall's face.

"Exactly," Liam said, taking Niall's silence as his victory. His eyes returned to his book. "With the amount of estrogen in your system, it's inevitable you'll be -and only _ever_ be- attracted to alphas."

With an indignation ablaze in the omega, Niall snapped his head in the direction of the beta. His cheeks were a chagrined reddish-pink as he scowled. " _Shut up, Liam_. You don't know _anything_ about being an omega."

Liam rolled his eyes. I sighed and slumped tiredly against the mattress of Niall and I's bed. Niall was perched on the windowsill, open notebook nestled in his lap as he doodled away. I slithered underneath the blankets, curling and cocooning until I was comfortable. I shut my eyes and listened to the drones of Niall singing 'Give Me Love' as I eased into sleep.

 

 

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I was in Biology class the next day. The teacher had tortured us with a worksheet, and I would've been able to properly concentrate if it weren't for the incessant groans carrying throughout the classroom, but it didn't matter because at ten'o'clock, a voice (presumably the principal's) broke out like a cough of dust through the old speakers.

_"Ah-hem! All students shall now being heaing to the gymnasium for the announcement regarding the Wolf Games this year. Thank-you."_

The Wolf Games? I didn't know whether to be excited this whole "Wolf Games" predicament was being confronted, or dreadful because every student would be attending.... _every_ student, and I was praying Harry Styles would coincidentally pick the side of the gymasnium opposite of me.

 

 

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The gym was _huge_ \- almost as long as an entire football field, and tall enough to stack nearly fifteen-twenty elephants on top of each other. Obviously there was enough space for the _whole_  College. Liam (who was in my Biology class at the time) had managed to seek us out a spot on the bleachers. I ended up being sandwiched between the beta and another chubby omega boy. I watched from my seat as the heaps of students filed into the gym. Even as big as it was, there were _a lot_ of us, too. I gave the person who thought of the ginormous gym in the first place an approving thought because- _god forbid!_ -if this bowl wasn't as massive as it was, there certainly wouldn't be able to hold _this many_ fish in it all at once.

I blamed the reason for the excessive student population in this College on the fact that there weren't many Colleges or Universities designed for shape-shifters in this world. I mean, 'course, there was an evident reign of the massive human population that overpowered ours, but.... there shouldn't have been _this_ much. It was odd; it was as if we'd managed to fit _two_ Colleges into one.

As people continued to shuffle in, my eyes roamed and accidentally caught onto a particular head down below on the bleaches with a mat of gold-brown hair that could only match one person that I'd seen just yesterday. I stood and cautiously begun forging myself a path to the person.

"Louis, what are you doing?" Liam demanded from behind me.

I wheeled around and told him, "I'm just changing seats. No hard feelings, yeah?"

Liam (the typical beta) gave a friendly, understanding face and nodded. Betas, even as much as they judged, were known for understanding a situation and a friend's needs. It was my favourite trait about them - hands down.

It took about five minutes of struggling through the equivalent of a herd of immobile horses and colts (it's a metaphor: the horses were the alphas and the omegas were the colts; the betas were the teen horses... whatever those were called) before I actually arrived at my destination. Luke noticed my presence the moment I plonked down beside him in the (thankfully) empty seat and gyrated his head.

I think I'm just going summarize this boy in a few easy descriptions: tall, thin, dirty-blonde hair, bottom lip piercing, and pale skin. He was quite appealing, but looked more like he belonged in high school than College. He had that rare, radiating innocence that very few alphas had. I could see now why the coach preferred to pick on _him_ rather than the other, more-bulky and aggressive alpha on his team. Even though his teammates had made similar mistakes on the field, the coach had his hounding eyes only on Luke the whole time.

"Hello," I said first, "I'm Louis." I tried to inject as much friendliness into my smile as I could when I held out my hand to him.

Hesitantly, Luke took my hand and shook it. "Uhm.... Luke." We returned hands.

"I don't know if you noticed, but I was standing beside coach on the field yesterday."

Luke blinked, dazed, but then squinted his eyes at me and slightly ducked his head, concentrating, then -in an abrupt splash of comprehension- he said, " _Oh!_ Yeah, I remember you." His brows suddenly knitted together. "No offence, but what were you doing there?"

 _Omegas weren't allowed to participate in alpha-dominated activities_. The reminder of the rules chimed like a nasally bell in my head upon the question. Logically, I knew it was only for safety purposes, but somewhere in my mind, I was resentful. I frowned, but only for half a second. Luke meant no harm in asking that, but the topic still struck a fragile string in my heart.

"Internship," I simply answered, forcing a smile to erase any hints of my bitterness.

"Oh," he said flatly.

The chattering didn't cease until the principal's stern, authoritative voice boomed through the gymnasium, richocheting off the walls and filling the air with an intimidating trepidation. The obnoxious chattering cut out instantly.

The principal was a tall, sturdy alpha with arrogant eyes and a mat of black hair that looked like straw. He was wearing a dark-blue suit, but even that could not hide the enormous power that was lying underneath. When the man stepped behind the podium, I noticed the bundle of muscles weaving under the cover of the suit as he rolled his shoulders. This was definitely one man whom I did not want to anger in my life.

"Good morning, students," he began. "I'm sure all you newcomers have all settled into your dorm rooms by now and have met your roommates, but the reason I have called this assembly is not just to welcome all of our new students to Métamorphe College, but also our student visitors from other schools."

Murmurs and whispers broke out from the sea of students immediately; I was just glad I wasn't the only one who was confused. _"Other schools?"_ Did that mean we had _guests?_ My body tickled with excitement at the imminent explaination of what exactly this "Wolf Games" was and why we had visitors. It was strange, starting the year with (what appeared to be) a significant event, but according to the numerous perplexed murmurs swarming the gym including non-first years, I assumed this event didn't happen every year and not everyone was aware of it. Guess we were all in the same boat here (well, besides the teachers, principal, etc).

The gymnasium hushed upon the principal's silencing gesture. An anticipation rocked the gymnasium as people practically leaned in to listen.

"Now, you see," the principal continued, "Métamorphe College has been chosen to host a legendary event that occurs once every ten years. I'm sure some of you have heard of or are already familiar with it, but for those who do not know, this event is called 'The Wolf Games'."

Feverish murmurs bestrewed throughout the gym.

"The Wolf Games," the principal said gruffly, silencing the gym again, "is a series of contests that exist between three schools of choosing."

 _Three_ schools? That meant we had two different kinds of visitors. 'Course, due to the fact that I was new, I was unable to recognize _who_ attended here and who didn't. That also explained why there were so many student; we had _additional_ students.

"The schools chosen this year will be, of course, Métamorphe College, and joining us will be our Korean friends coming from the south of Neugdae University, and our Irish lads from the west of Mac tíre Academy."

Enthralled whispers fluttered throughout the crowds of students. British, Korean and Irish all competing in one game.... that ought to be interesting. I'd never heard anything like this before. Yes, in high school we competed against other schools, but to have the schools _reside_ here while the Games are ensuing was something oddly different, yet it had a zesty taste of adventure.

"I urge everyone here to give our guests a proper welcome and have them feel at ease here where they will be staying for the majority of the year. Even though they are our competition, I expect everyone here to be treated with the upmost respect." He sighed. "Now that that is cleared up, I think it's time I tell you exactly what we will be doing this year in regards to the Wolf Games."

Luke suddenly turned to look at me, an earnest excitement lighting his face. I smiled at him in response, causing a blush to pierce his cheeks as he smiled back. This boy was obviously bashful and a bit unsure by nature (his _human_ nature; not his alpha's), but I had a hopeful feeling that he was starting to warm up to me... quite quickly, too, which made me feel slightly more proud of myself.

"I want to make this clear first: not everybody will be competing in these Games," the principal announced. "As a matter of fact, only...."

But I couldn't hear the rest of his speech, for the sound of shuffling and annoyed grunts of people in our row emitted, carrying right to me and -for some unexplained reason- bothered me with dread. I ignored it for a few seconds, thinking it was just somebody arrogantly forging their way through the forest of students, but then I heard _that voice._

"Sorry. My bad."

My eyes widened involuntarily and my chest tightened like something dangerous was constricting around my ribcage, complicating my breathing and only allowing me to heave short, shallow breaths. _Stress_. It had happened so quicky -like, scarily quickly- that I realized, yes (and _shit_ ), only one person was capable of having this malevolent effect on me. Only _one_ person delivered to me as much stress as I was inhibiting other than school.... and I hated to admit it to myself that this particular- _evil!_ -person had just sat directly beside me (and so casually too - like he never even cared to think first!) and was the one person whom I'd been progressively and passionately evading for the past four days.

"Hello, Louis," he said in that low, sticky voice, and it was enough to haunt me for the rest of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me, please?
> 
> I apologize for not including Harry in this chapter (up until the end, that is), but I'm hoping the next chapter will be better than this one.
> 
> I hope this was a-okay. I've been wanting to give you guys SOMETHING, but when I write I tend to deal with pickiness and indecisiveness and a little bit of humiliation ("why the heck did I write that?") which ultimately results in me procastinating and deleting work and taking longer than I hoped for.
> 
> OH! And just in case if you were wondering, YES, this is a fanfic inspired by the Goblet of Fire (and 1D obviously).
> 
> One last thing before I go too: if you have an FRIENDLY criticism or suggestions for me to improve my writing, please comment :) Also, if you have any questions from this chapter or the other one or just this story in general, ask that too. I don't bite ;)
> 
> You guys have been SO amazing and I just wanna say THANK-YOU!for supporting me with this story!! <3


	3. нaυnтed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis thought avoiding Harry would make his life a little easier, but now... he knows: he's haunted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it seems I'm going to updating every SATURDAY. 'S that okay for everyone?If something comes up, the date might be delayed, but either way, I will make sure to inform you guys about it.

 

 "As a matter of fact, only the chosen few may participate in these Games. The teachers and I will not be choosing the names; instead, students who wish to enter these Games will be tossing their votes into a rather special and ancient object that has been our heritage since way back when...."

I wish I could've been paying attention to what the principal had been saying, but my paranoia kept nagging and pleading, desperately trying to steer my attention to the presence beside me. Not Luke - the other presence... the unwanted one. I could practically _feel_ the arrogance and smug reflecting off of the alpha as he _just sat there_. That was it: he just sat there, and it was driving me nearly _insane_.

My mind was clotting with fear, and I knew it wouldn't alleviate until he was gone; unfortunately, I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen any time soon. It was like this energy was pouring off of Harry... a dark, malicious energy. It threatened my Wolf to despair -for _me_ to depair- but I resisted, and just sat - frozen.

I stared sedulously at the principal, but every word flew through one ear out the other - uncomprehended. If Styles thought I was paying attention to the assembly and ignoring him, he might leave me alone.

I was wrong.... 'course I was wrong.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a _hand_ touched my thigh... _his_ hand; big and calloused with naughty intentions. It took me a minute to understand _this was actually happening_. Harry Styles was _touching my thigh_... why the HELL was he touching my thigh for?!

This was so odd, and so, _so_ discomforting. His hand consumed nearly the whole surface of my left thigh, and there was a heat crawling underneath the unwelcomed thing that rose all my red flags. Why was he doing this?

Then it came to me.

Styles... he was trying to aggravate me again.

'Course! - how could I have not noticed it? How could I have forgotten that _this_ was his passion; to see me crumble and despair. The reason I must've been so thrown off was because this kind of torture was unfamiliar. He wanted to juice out an even 'tastier' reaction from me, perhaps bored from witnessing the same routine of reactions and decided to experiment. I knew I would not cave into his antics, but I also knew I would _not_ allow this to happen. I couldn't just let him express freely along my thigh like it was his property, so I (forcefully) brushed his hand off my body.

His response: nothing.

His hands just fell limply off my thigh like he wasn't even compelled to keep it there - not that I was complaining; definitely _not_ that I was complaining. It just startled me that Styles didn't manifest persistence; usually there was a choleric, I-do-what-I-want response. Not... _this_. I must've been missing something. I had a dense feeling he wouldn't let it end like this.

"... right under this sheet. Mr. Higgins, if you will."

I watched, suddenly intrigued, as a chunky (yet muscular) man approached a large, sheet-covered object propped right in the center of the gym. The monumental bleaches only occupied one entire wall of the gym; the stage, which was meant for plays or moments like these, occupied the other wall; the rest of the gym was empty and entirely just for gym class. Now, however, it seemed gym class would have to share his spot with another purpose.

With one swift yank, Mr. Higgins had ripped the sheet clean off the object and.... revealed the strange object that'd been lying underneath.

A series of "Ooh"s and gasps filled the gym all at the same time; however, to me, the noises seemed like distant hums as my attention was plastered to the wolf statue in the middle of the floor. It was stone and grey, all except for its eyes which appeared to be composed of gemstones; baby-blue gemstones which had a light, ominous glow that seemed to leak like gas and dissolve in curls into the air. It was cool... yet spooky.

Abruptly then -with a flicker of the principal's hand- a searing blue flame coughed and sparked from the statue's open mouth, and then calmed and flowed like a casual flame in a campfire, curling and licking along the stone jaw of its host as if trying to escape. The statue's mouth pushed out forward in a neat, horizontal line, making it easy to toss something into the flame.

I was torn from my focus when the _same hand_ returned to the _same spot_ on my thigh. An tempting growl tickled in my throat. He was trying to annoy me. He wanted _something_ , and this only proved that he wasn't going to stop until he- EAAH!

Owow.... My body gripped in startled pain when Styles (out of the blue) squeezed the flesh of my thigh, causing a yelp to tear out my throat and my hands to shoot out and grasp his one hand, a silent plea to stop. I didn't think when I allowed my eyes to drift to the boy I hated sitting beside me. _Big mistake_. I instantly regretted it and dropped my gaze to my thigh where I could focus on more important things, like prying this dastardly thing off of me, and hopefully convincing its master to _leave me alone_ in the process. _Like that'll happen though_ , I though despondently.

Then, I felt Styles's presence press closer to me. It was so slow, yet so fast, and I could barely comprehend it before I did. His body's cloak of heat cascaded against my skin as he leaned in close - so close, his lips were a few millimetres away from my ear. I tried to lean away, but was warned with a slight squeeze on my thigh from the bastard, so I stopped reluctantly and allowed him to continue (God, I despised him). His hot breath was wet and dangerous against my ear as he whispered, "You're very naughty to me."

"Wh-Why wouldn't- why w-wouldn't I be?" I asked impulsively, my breathing choppy and (irrevocably) embarrassing. I didn't even know _why_ I replied...'guess the urge to rebuke him must've developed into a second instinct over the years.

Harry was pleased to answer; well, he seemed to be. That was his nature; he _loved_ to build me up by adding reply after reply. It seemed to him that whoever ended the conversation won the shadowed argument. I never quite understood this guy... 'suppose I was too busy being terrified of him to really cogitate his methods on riling me up. I only knew everything _now_ because I'd been given three years to overthink what transpired between Styles and I.

My ear was warm and my neck tickled with his subtle respiring, thwarted from escaping without risking fingers biting into my flesh. It frustrated me.

Somewhere in this, my attention had actually been diverted to the situation down below with the principal explaining what the statue was. "...very dear to our hearts, and the only one who can determine who is the most suitable person to represent his/her team each year- "

I yelped sharply.

"You will listen to _me_ , Louis," he said firmly and maliciously, a silent threat evident in his voice.

His steel grip had trapped me and his grip had tightened viciously like a tourniquet, transferring his opinion on me leaving him for a split second with a silent, harsh gesture. I felt the _anger_  from him heated into my skin and nearly shuddered. If I wasn't so scared right now, I would've reprimanded him. Nevertheless, I ~~thankfully~~ consequently still had some dignity left.

"Stop it."

"Yeah. Stop it."

Both our attention snapped to the right and- _Oh God_ -it was Luke. How long had he been watching? Did he even know what was going on (though frankly neither did I)?

His youthful face was contorted in bent brows, frowning mouth, and diapproving glare that lasered straight right past me to Harry. It was so weird... it looked as though Luke had never been timid before; he looked... tough, firm... _alpha_.

"Oh my," Harry said sarcastically, feigning maze, "is that _Luke Hemmings?_ As in Luke the Fluke?"

I watched as Luke' one eyebrow flinched; not so noticable, but still there. Hopefully Styles did not see it.

... Still, even though Luke was standing up for me and bestowing a wrathful appearance to Harry, it burned an anger in me that Harry would even _think_ of bullying this innocent boy. Luke did not _deserve_ what kind of treatment Styles gave to people when they disapproved him.

Pushing away the fear, I glared at Harry crossly. "Don't talk to him like that. He's not part of this."

Harry's eyes switched to me, but his head did not stir. His expression was blank -out of emotion- and simply just... tired. Not sleepy-tired, but I'm-done-with-your-shit kind of tired. It was a scolding look, one mostly used by alphas who were trying to discipline someone. I'd seen it before on only two people: my mother and Harry.

Harry's eyes returned to Luke then... slowly, a smirk stretched on corner of his lips, indenting a humourous, cherub dimple in the corner. A small chuckle bubbled on his lips before he abruptly leaned back beside me, out of Luke's view, though I didn't believe it was meant to be a fleeing motion. Harry Styles did not _flee_ ; he got _vengeance_.

"You're right - for once," he said smugly. "He's _not_ part of this." Then, he said to Luke, "Better thank your omega pal for saving you on _this_ one. It could've gone a lot worse."

And that was it. Harry had unlocked his grip on my thigh and gazed out to the principal.

Did he actually just... listen to me?

It didn't seem like he totally _admitted_ it, but I knew if I hadn't of said anything, the future would've definitely turned down a different path. But... _why?_ Why'd he listen to _me?_  He'd never listened to me before... maybe he wasn't feel up to a quarrel today; maybe he was unprepared for Luke to intervene; maybe he really was tired and didn't have the energy to deal with it today. For whatever reason, I was just thankful he _listened_ to me. It felt... good - exhilarating.

"... the new rule states that only students who are of the age of twenty and over may enter the Wolf Games."

Immediately the shouts of disapproval and booing and "THAT'S RUBBISH!!" rambled throughout the gym, yet were silenced quickly by the principal. Huh. I didn't see why people _wouldn't_ obey him...

"However, before you decide on entering, I am advised to give you all a warning. Once you are picked, there is _no_ turning back. The rules are absolute, and to disobey them would have magical consequences. Please think first before you enter. Do not take your vote lightly. These contests are dangerous, perilous, and -in many cases- _unforgiving_. That is also why we are only allowing betas and alphas to enter, for safety purposes."

...

Well, guess I should've seen _that_ one coming.

 

 

 

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"Mr. Higgins."

I watched from my seat as our Nature Studies teacher -the same guy from the assembly- turned and scrawled his name in white chalk across the dark-green board at the front of the classroom. He was calm in his stride as he spun on his heel and sauntered with ease and suspense towards the side of the board, bestowing it to us. His dark eyes were like a hawk as he stared warningly at us, sending a silent message: _"obey me and your life will be easy; disobey, and you'll wish you were in the Holocaust instead."_ He was establishing his authority to us, something teachers often did here - especially alphas.

Up close, I realized only now how tall Mr. Higgins was. He was at least six feet - likely even taller. His belly strained against his shirt, but not too much; he wasn't fat per say, but had the typical I-like-to-eat-potato-chips belly. There was muscle patent in his arms and torso. He wasn't one you'd enjoy a fight with because he had both defense and attack on his side; however, with his intimidating adult figure and parent-like glare, it would seem with one glance that he'd convince you into backing out of the fight before even engaging.

"I'm your Nature Studies teacher for the semester." His subduing eyes lathered over the class of students and I, challenging us to speak, yet it seemed more like a threat if anything. "Any questions?"

Nobody answered, nor moved.

"Good." Mr. Higgins stepped back in front of the board. "Now, can anyone tell me what the three deadly plants are?"

No answer. Nobody even hesitated to raise an arm.

"This is disappointing," Mr. Higgins commented, though there was some smug in his voice as if he found pride in successfully intimidating his new class. "At least _one_ of you should know one. There are the essential information for when we- _yes_ , there, at the top!" He pointed a thick finger towards the kid crazy enough to voluntarily accept his attention.

"Um," the student- _a girl_ -said, obviously in despair, "well, uhm... there is the... Awesmist- "

" _Correct!_ " Mr. Higgins declared, cutting her short to jot the answer down on the board, writing hastily and aggressively with the poor chalk, "and can you tell me _what_ Awesmist is and does?"

"Uh- Erm...."

"Louder! And clearer!"

"I-It's a plant poisonous to alphas." She hesitated. "It's fatal in most cases; even a scratch can subdue the body to unimaginable pain."

"Yes, yes," Mr. Higgins said, the nasally sound of squeaky, racing chalk-on-board assisting him, "correct. But that's not the only plant. There are two others, one for the beta and one for the omega - all three possessing great potential to wipe out our species if were are not careful." He stared at us, dragooning. "Can anyone tell me the other two?... Yes, _there!_ On the right with the blue shirt."

"The Bizmus plant." Professional, confident tone; beta, definitely.

"Yes!" Mr. Higgins wrote it down. "For whom should avoid _that_ one?"

There was a slightly frightened hesitation. "Betas, sir." He wasn't frightened of the teacher; he was frightened by the thought of the plant that could kill him.

The teacher finished and wheeled back around to the class. "Last one. Who's got it?"

Nobody answered... so then he switched his attention to _me,_ who was one of the unluckies sat up front (I _knew_ I should've came earlier to class... stupid clock set itself back an hour, like wth?).

" _You_ ," he grumbled, "you got it, don't you?"

It wasn't exactly _sexist_ that he'd ask me for the last one, but that it made sense I knew it... I guess. Okay, maybe it was _a little_ sexist, but it still made sense - kinda, in a sexist way.

"O'Varen...," I mumbled, immediately castigating myself for I knew the imminet response for leveling my voice to the equivalent of a mouse's.

"Louder," Mr. Higgins inevitably commanded.

Shivers shook my spine as they hurried up and down. "O'Varen. It's O'Varen."

Mr. Higgins hummed in approval. "Better." Chalk shrieked as he recorded my answer. "That is correct. Yes, good. I knew you guys had it in you." He ambled to the side, giving full view of the chalk-claimed board. "Now, let us discuss these three plants. We have already learned from our dear student up top that these three are all _very_ lethal to their victims, but are they deadly to the others?... Yes, you, there."

"No," answered a low, grtted voice, "they are not. They actually taste like you're eating a leaf."

"Mmm, correct and incorrect," said the teacher. "You see, each plant has a particular taste to those who are not affected by its poison. Can anyone tell me- you know what, actually, I'll just say it." He sighed grizzly-like. "Awesmist had a spicy taste to it. 'Course, an alpha could not tell because the plant has evily concealed its taste in order to trick the alpha into swallowing and consequently killing him/her from the inside-out. The same goes for the other two." He paced across the board, facing away from the class as his eyes wandered blankly. "Bizmus has a rather minty, herb-like taste to it. It is dry in the mouth, but can be great for making soup; obviously not for betas though."

The classroom fluffed with small laughter. Obviously the betas did not find any humour in it at all.

"O'Varen is sweet-tasting. It is often used as a secret ingredient for candies by humans, which is the reason why we _strongly_ advise our omegas here never to buy candy from humans."

The same response came from the class again. I sat silently.

"Yes, that is them. Now, how deadly exactly are these plant to their 'favourites'?" Mr. Higgins asked, his humour teetering. Nobody answered this time. "I'll tell you then," he rumbled, snatching an apple from his desk and clenching it in his large hand. "With just one simple cut from the plant that is deadly to you, the fire -as many explain it to be- will start in that one spot, then travel through your bloodstream, edging closer and closer to the muscle flexing in your chest and, before you know it, within a few days, after you think the pain is almost unbarable, it stops altogether, and before you know _that_ -" He chomps loudly in his apple. "-you're dead and free."

The classroom hushed. Trepidation carried in the air like the tension of watching a horror movie at night in the darkness of your basement with no one else around.

"Wow," Niall breathed beside me, "that's... quite a sick way to convey that." He stared down at his fingers as he curled and intertwined them anxiously. "Too bad it's the truth..."

 

 

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"So, what'd you think of the assembly?"

Zayn blinked up at me from the dark-blue carpetted ground where he'd been kneeling in front of and sorting the boxes of labeled shoe sizes into their correct spots. We were both fashioned in our... _fabulous_ work attires and were only a little ashamed of them. They were black- _mysterious and cool_ -so it wasn't too bad on that part, but I could've gone without the shorts that breezed at my calfs while for Zayn they touched just above his knees. Zayn had guffawed when he saw the oversized pants and poked fun at me whenever I was forced to drag them up when they drooped and nearly revealed my boxers underneath. Josh promised me a new pair, but didn't apologize for mistaking me with the wrong size. Typical...

Zayn shoved in the last remaining boxes swiftly then stood. He flicked the curly, pure-black lock that was dangling and bugging his eyes before looking to me. "Dunno... seemed cool, I guess."

"You guess...?" I said, silently asking for more info. After Zayn gave me a cool guy eyebrow raise of confusion, I added, "Like.... are you going to enter, or..?"

Zayn had told me before that he was twenty-years-old: the qualified age to enter the Wolf Games. And he was an alpha, so put two and two together and he qualified.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, pale lips curling inward, rounding, "I see. Well, um..." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I haven't quite thought about it... I guess I wouldn't bet on it, Lou." He bounded around me and headed towards one of kid's shoes that'd been left heedlessly on the ground. "So, how 'bout you, Lou? you gonna.... _oh_ , shit, wait... uhm... Sorry." He turned around and smiled sympathetically and apologetically at me after returning the shoe home.

I shook my head, waving my wrist at him in a dismissing gesture. "Nah. It's fine. I wasn't going to enter anyway."

I was being honest. Sure, I was a little bitter about not being given permission to enter simply because of my second gender (I couldn't even qualify for age since I was only eighteen, but I didn't mind that as much _that_ as I minded the sexist rule), but it again for safety reasons and I guess.... Ugh. Stupid sexism... they don't believe -just because we're generally smaller- that we can take care of ourselves. I blamed it partially on the fact that there weren't as much omegas as there were betas and alphas, therefore uppering the determination to harbour and keep safe the omega population. Still, it was cruel and unethical and plainly just sexist to disallow us from activites that alphas and betas could participate in.

Zayn frowned. "Yeah, well... I still don't agree with the teachers and shit." He grinned that hopeful grin; the one that's purpose is to try and enlighten the situation a little. "I think omegas can be just as tough as betas and alphas."

I smiled lightly at him. "You think so?"

"Yeah." He patted my shoulder. "Definitely." Then, he turned and heaved up a medium-sized cardboard box into his arms effortlessly and shoved it towards m- woah, WOAH, WAIT A SEC- !!

I grunted as the weight of the box plunged in my arms. I attempted to lift and hoist it to a more comfortable position where I could actually hold it properly but- _shit_ -it was really heavy.

"Here 'ya go, tough muffin," Zayn said, hands resting on his hips as he watched me struggle. "Now, be a good work partner and bring your tasty big bum over to the football section and take care of those balls for me."

I wanted to punch him in the arm again (this wasn't the first time he made a teasing sex joke to me) for adding that little implying message into his words, but because my arms were occupied, I sufficed with a simple glare to at least _get_ my message across to him that, no, it _wasn't_ funny.

Zayn chuckled from behind me as I turned and began awkwardly lugging off toward the football section. Stupid Zayn... we were having a good, happy moment when- _oh no_ -he just _had_ to go and ruin it. The dude needed to get his sex-crazed brain adjusted, and if he thought I'd tolerate it for one more second _\- !!_

The box nearly slipped from my grip, and it would've if my fingers hadn't of bitten anxiously into the cardboard. I couldn't help it though because... because... _shit_ \- because _he_ was standing _right in front of me_ with that stupid shit-eating grin that made me want to throw a fit. And I would've... if it weren't for this box, that is. Yeah, it's _all_ the box's fault... I'd be definitely flipping my shit like a monket at a Zoo right now if it weren't for... '

Kay, I was lying. This man petrified me.

"Hello, Louis," Harry mused as he strolled his muscle-packed body over to me. I knew this because he was sporting a white T-shirt that clung to his body, emphasizing his contours. Always trying to swoon the omegas... typical Styles; typical alpha-slut he was.

"Hi," I squeaked, tightening my hold on the box as he approached and, _God_ , I could feel the heat _again_. It was if his body rays reached to me like a magnet.

He stopped right in front of me and just stared down at me from behind the box. I gawked up at him, noticing suddenly the mystery that twinkled in those eyes of his, reflecting a dark, surreptitious story that was most likely singing to him in his head right now. What... story was _that_ , I wondered. Styles didn't have much secrets from what I knew -he was always so free and open and social- but this made me thinking-

"Stare much, sweets?"

I blinked, startled. "What?" Then, upon realization, my face burned with a furious chagrin. "Erm... 's not staring." I hid my face into the box. _So embarrassing..._

After a few seconds, I lifted my head and sniffled, flicking the drooping hair out of my face. I bit my lip nervously as I turned my head to look away, cowering in the corner of my mind. He knew where I worked now, he knew where I worked now.... Oh, no, no, no.... this couldn't be happening. He could _find me_ after work... he could-

"What'd you want, Harry?" I asked bravely, yet still evading his eyes.

The response was casual and innocent. "I'm here for some kleets." He chuckled under his breath, as if at some memory that'd suddenly popped in his head. "My teammates are poor so they sent me here." I was suddenly doubtful that Harry would _ever_ so something generous when he added, "I'm gonna put nails in them so when the blokes step in, they'll wish they never tried to use me for my money... Dicks they are. Don't know who I am, unlike you."

I wasn't flattered. "Oh." It took me a moment to fully comprehend that. He... from what he'd said, he _didn't_ want to torment me. Guess I would've just had to risk it and see. After all, I _was_ an employee and, uh, Josh would kinda slay me for not doing my duties.

Heh. Duties.

I began to walk towards the place when rough hands shot out and ripped the box from my grasp- hey, _HEY!_ That was min- !

"Let me," Harry said, smiling. "Must be pretty heavy for you."

Typical; however, after experiencing the abandonment of the weight, I realized just how _relieved_ my arms were as they hung sluggishly by my sides. They felt so light as the blood rushed in them, and I didn't complain as I guided my enemy towards where the kleets were.

Already I knew where the kleets were... well, actually, it might've also had something to do with the fact that I spent most of my time hanging around this section. My fingers impulsively feathered over the new kleets (just got 'em in yesterday apparently; Josh unpacked them), relishing in the feeling the smooth, amazing leather passing under my pads. I, however, hastily tore myself from the short reverie before things got weird with Harry standing there... watching.

Er... "You can put the box, um, over there," I told him, pointing to the blue-orange-coloured table nearby.

Harry listened (again) without protest, nor some snippy remark to add on top of the ice cream and strolled over to the table and dropped the box delicately on top. He grazed the inside of his hands together up-and-down like how someone in middle school would skid chalk brushes together to create dust clouds. After he finished that, he looked to me with an unbarable amount of conceit reflecting in his face, and it took almost everything in me to resist from throwing a kleet at him spikes-first.

"Wasn't that heavy," he remarked with gross pride.

I scoffed. "What kleets do you want?" I asked quietly.

"Hmm." He comtemplated the boxes. "These ones," he announced, taking down the box up high on the shelf with ease.

I nodded passively. "Would you like to measure your feet?"

"No," he answered, "I got it."

I swallowed dryly. "'Kay." I shuffled awkwardly. "'S that all?"

He paused to cogitate. "No. I was wondering if you had any good soccer balls here."

I led him to the soccer balls where I allowed him to make his pick among the arrays of beautiful new sets of different coloured and interestingly patterned soccer balls. They were so glossy and nice, I'd feel bad for using one in the actual play.

Harry balanced one in his hands, rolling it and inspecting it thoroughly. His eyes were concentrated, as if he genuinely cared which one he decided on. He exchanged ball-after-ball, and by the fourth ball, he turned to me with a flat expression. The tiny smile that tugged at his mouth took me off guard. It was almost like an guilted, apologetic gesture.

"Don't think I like any of these," he said, plain. "You got any goalie gloves?"

With uneasy steps, I escorted him over to the where the goalie stuff was located. It ranged from knee pads to elbow pads to goalie gloves to everything else imaginable (this place had literally everything). Harry allowed himself to the pairs of gloves and dangled one, staring at it blankly before actually feeling it and examining it. My nerves crawled along my skin; little eggs of sweat beaded along the pasty skin.

He hummed, then looked at me with the pair in his hands, as if saying, _"Yes, I'll get these."_

But just to make sure... "These?"

"Yup."

"Okay."

It was awkward as I slowly turned and began leading Harry to the cash register. A sudden relief sprinkled inside me at the thought of him leaving and having this insufferable awkward situation finally come to an end. Harry'd just been so... _casual_ and seemingly oblivious. It was unbearable. Harry didn't just act like this on a regular basis; it was suspicious, especially since this occurred after our edgy conversation earlier today.

Then, as we were turning the corner, I was suddenly pushed against the wall by his force.

A gasp scraped out my throat. The rack of clothes concealed us from the cameras and anyone nearby who could've been looking, so I knew I was basically doomed unless I screamed; however, that became a nono the moment my throat swelled, catching any words I wanted to say. My breaths were shallow and thinned out in sharp, choppy slices, making my lungs burn and panic and feel as if they were been constricted.

I instinctively searched for escape, but his arms caged me in, planted sturdy on either side of my face, palm flat against the wall. His body was like an oven and pracitcally poured all over my like liquid-hot coals and I wanted so desperately for this to be over, but it was _Harry Styles_. He was unpredictable, and he took no mercy for _anyone_.

I closed my eyes, hoping to black out the sight of his angry face from appearing in my dreams nightmares; however, a low growl convinced me to do otherwise, and I despaired under his impassive -yet secretly fuming inside- face. Trembling and preparing for anything, I listened tightly to the words leaving his mouth.

"You know what, sweets," he said, and it would appear to be tranquil, but in the background hid an indignant monster begging for to be freed, "from earlier today, I've realized something: I don't think you've changed. _At all_."

I swallowed thickly.

" _But_ ," he whispered, leaning in towards my face, grinning like the bloody Cheshire Cat and pouring all his evil desires into the one simply face stretch, but also making sure to let me know he was cross with me by dissolving the grin almost instantaneously before he spoke again, saying ever-so quietly and malevolently, "it just makes it all more interesting."

Abruptly, his arms dropped, releasing me, and he turned away and sauntered off like nothing had every happened. Just like that - again.

After I'd emotionally recovered, I noticed Harry's items were gone and automatically made my way (shakily) over to the cash register. Green paper nested in a tiny pile on the counter; beside it was a folded note written in blue ink.

_Thanks for the help, sweets. Can't wait to see you at school._

I might've just crumbled the message into a ball and dumped it heedlessly into the trash can. Huh. Maybe he was right - maybe I hadn't changed...

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

I hated crying. I hated crying with a passion. Why? It made me feel weak. And really, crying shouldn't make someone feel weak because - _after all_ \- it _was_ part of what being human (well, _part_ human) meant, but still.... I hated to let my fear show -let my _pain_ show- because... I don't know; I guess I just didn't like it when people showed they cared because when people cared... they got hurt in the process. It happened before - that's how I knew. I couldn't let that happen to my _new_ friends -they didn't deserve it- so I decided to let the water gates open as I walked back to my dorm room that night because, well... nobody saw you crying when you were in the rain.

When I entered the building, drenched to the bone, I remembered how Zayn reacted when I told him I was _walking_ back to the College.

_"What- are you sure? I mean, I could give you a ride. My car's right out front- "_

_"No, no... it's fine... I, uh, I like the rain."_

_He raised a questioning brow at me. "Oh, well... if you're sure." He slid off his unfirom shirt swiftly. "Hm. Like to walk in the rain." He scoffed, disbelieving. "You're crazy, dude."_

I would've definitely accepted the ride, but my gates were overflowing, and it was only a matter of time before I'd manumit them, and to let Zayn _see me cry_ right in front of him... well, it just made me feel pathetic. He'd probably think I _was_ pathetic.

I resisted the urge to shake myself like a wet, shaggy dog and trudged up the stairs, feeling the absorbed water weighing in my clothes. My soaked shoes squished against the steps as I lazily climbed up them, ignoring the elevator. My dorm room wasn't too high up; I could make it without the elevator.

I was desperately hoping Niall and Liam were fast asleep by the time I'd reach the dorm room. As I approached- _dreading_ -I pleaded in my head: _Please, please, please be asleep_. I gripped the knob lightly and twisted hesitantly, slowly prying it open and- _Oh, thank-god_. They were asleep.

I exhaled a sigh of relief, happy I didn't have to explain to Niall and Liam why I was so late and why I chose to come back in the rain (because it was obvious). After I flipped off my shoes and gathered my PJ's, I looped into the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible when I turned on the light and shut the door. With the constantly running worries pumping through my head, it took me nearly ten minutes just to get dressed. It wasn't that I was slow, but that I stood thinking more than I did actually doing something productive.

I surreptitously slid into bed with Niall. He'd consumed only half, which I was thankful for; usually he took up most of the mattress, leaving me curled in a ball in the corner. I lay in bed for about two minutes, just contemplating blankly at the wall across the room when suddenly I felt arms snake around me, gently tugging me towards the middle of the bed. Niall tucked his face in the back of my neck, humming in approval. I lay like a ragdoll- _submissive_ -as I let Niall cuddle me, forcing me into being the little spoon.

He surprised me by actually talking. "Mmm... why're you so late, Loueh?"

I gulped. "I, uh, umm... was late getting off work."

Niall stayed silent for a few seconds, then mumbled, "Oh... mm, okay."

"Go to sleep, Niall," I whispered.

"'M tryin', but... you weren't here and I...," he sobbed against my neck, curling in closer to me, "I was scared."

I gently patted his arm. "Shh, it's okay," I told him, "I'm here now, 'kay?" He was sleep-talking. I'd figured that out just now. It was essential to be calm and soothing to a person who was half-awake, half-alseep.

Niall sobbed louder. "B-B-But I-I saw- " Sob. " -I saw... PIGEONS!!" He choked out even more throaty sobs.

I turned over, rolling one hundred and eighty degrees in Niall's loose arms. "Niall, 's okay."

"Th-They- they wanted me t-to..." He hiccuped, "they wanted me to.... to... DANCE!!" he cried out, fear coating his last, very pronounced word. "Loueh," he said, rubbing his knuckles against his leaking eyes, "Th-They want me to dance though, b-b-but I c-can't... but I _can't_ dance! They, they...." He removed his hands and sighed, dead-tired eyes blank and staring down.

I droned. "Well then tell those pigeons, Niall."

He blinked up at me, comtemplating for a second, muttering to himself, "Yeah, yeah.... that's a... thas a goo-ood idea..." He shuffled under the blankets and adjusted his head so his neck was bent back, and his mouth hung open as a loud snore roared through the dorm room.

I smiled faintly and cuddled into Niall's PJ-clothed chest, soaking up the warmth as I hoped for sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? :)
> 
> I will say this again in case anyone missed it in the last chapter: this story is inspired by 'Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire."


	4. poιѕonoυѕ тoυcн

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The plants are poisonous," the guide had told them. That wouldn't be the only poisonous thing Louis would encounter at today's school trip to the greenhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I KNOW: it's been so long and I'm so sorry! The reason I didn't upate on Saturday was because, since the last update occurred earlier than the date I promised, this one was going to be late. It seems my updates aren't exactly scheduled right now, so I'm just gonna go with: updates for LPBC will be patrolling the weekends.
> 
> I hope this one will be good enough for you guys! You've all been so amazing! :3 Thank-you for all the comments, kudos and support you've given me! It's the one thing that keeps me going :)

 

 

"Thing's bloody creepy...," Niall said, his stride slow and cautious as he encircled and inspected the wolf statue at a safe distance - or the "Blue Wolf" as it'd been deemed by the teachers and principal.

The gymnasium lights had been dimmed; the reason for it was unknown, except perhaps to give the room a spooky vibe. The calm, light-blue fire clawing out the statue's mouth had been the most prominent light in the whole room, making the other lights appear insignificant to its hefty glow. The flame's light reflected onto the walls, even on the ones far away, and a faint blue gleam could be identified at the entrance. It felt almost like wandering through an aquarium.

"It's ancient," Liam remarked, "and as a new generation, ancient seems scary to us. It's differen't, after all, and what's more scary than something that's different?"

Niall snapped his head to glare daggers as Liam. "Put the beta away, Liam; in fact, don't you ever let it rest?"

Liam remained composed and calm. "Niall, I don't find it possible how one could just _put away_ their beta, alpha, or omega. That's like asking a human to put away their instincts." He pushed up his glasses with an easy finger. "And due to the fact that it's imbedded in their brain, that would make it impossible."

Niall's eyes hardened. "Ye see? _This_ is what 'm talking about!" He twisted abruptly to me. "Louis, do you seriously agree with tis? He's pestering us wit' his facts and opinions and... and.... his JUDGEMENT!"

"I want no part of this," I simply said. "I just want to watch people toss their votes into the magical flame of the ancient wolf statue's mouth and watch it disappear forever."

At the same second, someone approached the statue's open mouth and flicked in a folded paper. The flame reacted vigorously, engulfing the vote as the paper diappeared like it never even existed. Respective claps resounded around the gym from bystanders. 'Course, Liam and I had been the only ones to clap between the three of us; Niall was still fuming a mighty Irish rage.

Niall folded his arms over his chest and pouted crossly. "Well, I for one _don't_ agree wit' it," he grumbled, implying what he'd previously said about Liam. "He's clearly got an ego problem."

"Actually," Liam asserted, "the fact that I manage to defeat you in these battle of wits and you reacting sourly almost everytime proves that _I_ am not the one with the ego problem, but you."

Niall hissed, "You're wrong!"

Liam sighed like a tired parent. "You just can't seem to accept that you are wrong, Niall, and that's where your problem is."

Niall huffed, irked. "Hmf. Think yer so smart using all these big words, huh, Liam?"

"I did not use any big- "

"Think you're better than us," Niall continued, ignoring Liam's imminent input, "don't you?"

Liam blinked at the omega, unimpressed. "Very mature, Niall." A few seconds passed before the beta added, "I'm being sarcastic, in case you didn't know."

"I think you- !"

"Guys, stop, please!" I said, exasperated. Jesus- even though Liam was a mature beta, it was still like dealing with children sometimes whenever these two quarrelled. I _knew_ this would happen... didn't I predict it'd happen?

The gym suddenly erupted with claps and I jerked my attention back to the statue. It was a more boisterous reaction, as if this person was more significant than the others.

He was an alpha; the tall, fit and muscular form and smug grin gave it away instantly. His hair was a dark, umber brown that swept upward, kinda like Niall's. His face looked young and cheeky. I'd believe it if someone told me he was twenty, or even a little older. By the amount of elated people swarming and cherishing him, I'd assumed right away that this guy was popular.

"Who is that?" I blurted, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Dunno," I heard Niall answer, seemingly just as curious as me. "Why don't we find out?"

"What, Ni- !"

"HEY, MR. HUNKY AND POPULAR, WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, shrinking away as I hoped this nightmarish humiliation would just dissipate sooner than later. Jesus Christ, did this boy just _say_ whatever he wanted to?

To my horror, the guy actually turned around and looked at us. He smiled wildly, humour and flattery polishing his face as he sauntered leisurely towards us. He walked like a king; graceful and with a little hint of pride. He glanced over his shoulder and told his 'fans'/'friends' that he'd _"see you all later!"_ before looking back to us and grinned whitely.

"Hi," he said, his tone glistening with alpha and posh, "I'm Aiden Grimshaw." He held out his hand to Niall. "I am- " He chuckled, " -quite flattered, probably, by your.... call, as I might say."

Niall sniggered. "Needed some way to get yer attention, mate." He shook Aiden's hand.

"Hm... is that... Irish?" Aiden asked, casually polite.

"Yeh," Niall answered, gleeful, "but before ye say it, I am in no way connected to Mac tíre Academy. I may be Irish, but I grew up here and me parents always told me _'yer to go to Métamorphe school! No child o' mine is gonna be besmirched by the dress code and Irish traditions'_."

"So, you don't have Irish traditions?" Aiden remarked. Again, politely.

"Sorta," Niall shrugged, "but apparently at Mac tíre they go all the way with Irish tradition, and because me parents went trough it, they didn't want me to go trough it."

Aiden shook hands with Liam, sharing a small, friendly conversation on the history of betas, then he turned to me, hand extended out and ready to greet, but he froze abruptly. I'm not exactly sure what happened in this small, tense moment, but what I do know is that Aiden hesitated just before we actually shook hands. I never actually looked at him during that small time frame, but I wish did; it probably would've reflected something significant.

I felt a bit excluded when Aiden never said anything to me. We simply shook hands and that was it; he just turned right back to Niall and Liam afterwards as if I never existed. He couldn't have been sexist because he showed nothing against Niall (who was also omega), so... what was wrong with _me_? Did I have something on my face?

I stood, isolated, by the three as they confabulated and laughed about certain, tiny events that'd occurred over the course of the week being here. Aiden was apparently from Mac tíre Academy, which I found quite ironic, and I was sure Niall would've agreed with me. I noticed the omega go stiff and his face blast with redness when the news was revealed. Aiden didn't look offended though by Niall's views on the Academy; he just smiled and acted like a friendly guy to them.

After a while of plainly exchanging sights on my friends' conversing and people entering their names into the magical flame, I grew bored and decided to go study in the dormroom and prepare for my next class. I figured it was a lot more productive than just lingering around here with no purpose other than to be invisible.

"Aw, really?" Niall whined when I'd told him.

"I gotta study anyway; have a quiz in my next class," I reasoned.

Niall seemed to mull over it, but then sighed, admitting defeat. For some reason -and it confused and flattered me at the same time- when it came to me, Niall wasn't ashamed of openly accepting 'defeat', but when it came to Liam, the world seemed to be ending. I assumed it'd been because I was omega and there'd been nothing to prove to me.

"Okay, yeah," Niall said flatly, "Bye then."

I nodded and ambled away towards the open gym doors. I'd accomplished approximately ten steps when I heard the unmistakable sound of Aiden telling Niall and Liam, _"gotta go, too, but I'll see you guys around, yeah? It was real nice meeting you two."_ Then the clicking of hurrying footsteps emerged, pattering across the flat, hard floor and becoming more prounced the closer he got.

"Hello!" I heard Aiden chirp beside me.

Baffled, I mumbled a small, "Hello," and kept my eyes focused in front of me, yet from the corner I could perceive his close form trailing beside me. He was so much taller than me... I didn't realize that until now. Well, huh, go figure - he _was_  an alpha; those mammoths were always taller than me.

There was a deliberate pause. "You are... Louis, right?"

My reply was fruitless. "Yeah."

He made a sound of understanding between his pressed lips. "Well, hi, Louis, I'm Ai- _Oh_ , wait... you knew that already, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Oh." The chagrin was evident. "Well, I guess it makes sense," he said sheepishly. He ducked his head slightly, as if in shame. "I, um... didn't offend you when I didn't say anything to you earlier, did I?"

 _Offend?_ No... well, I wasn't sure. To be honest, I was more confused than I was _offended_ earlier. I didn't -and still didn't- understand why he chose to shun me in the conversation with Niall and Liam. I mean, I was _there_ ; he _knew_ I was - he shook my hand. It's possible he could've forgotten my presence... though, I found it all a bit odd how he immediately noticed me when I chose to leave. Did he only want to speak to me one-on-one, or...

"I didn't offend you... did I?"

"What?" Oh. " _Oh_ \- uhm, no..." I felt my face burn with embarrassment. "Sorry."

A chuckling wisp left Aiden. "It's fine."

I hummed monotonously as we stepped out the gym doors. "I wonder what exactly these 'Wolf Games' are about," Aiden suddenly said, restoring the conversation. "When Mr. Cowell spoke about it during the assembly, he made it seem so.... sinister.... I'm not scared! I just... I hope these Games or whatever aren't going to _kill_ us."

Mr. Cowell was the principal's name. Simon Cowell, it is, but apparently you'd be a fool to speak his full name aloud. Teachers saw it as questioning his authority. I agreed with Aiden though; Mr. Cowell did make the Wolf Games seem sinister. Perhaps it was a warning for student willing to particpiate to not take their vote lightly.

"There's still a chance you might not get picked," I pointed out, instinctively attempting to soothe the trepidation.

"I know," he replied, "though... my friends and teachers are really counting on me." He sighed. "They want me to be chosen to represent our school, but..."

"What?"

"I don't know." The clicking of his shoes filled in the awkward gape of his silence. "It just seems like a lot... - I mean, nothing I can't handle, 'course."

"Oh. Then what're you so worried about?"

He hesitated tensely as if caught red-handed. "Reputation."

I stiffened a small chortle. "Reputation?"

"Yes," he said, a new confidence enlightening his tone, "my reputation. You see, because I have so much heavy expectations on me, I've been stressed not to mess up... so what if I _do_ mess up?"

It took me a moment to realize my face had been stretched into an unconscious smile. "Well, you seem like a pretty versatile person, showing you can handle the intimidation of popularity and that you can handle the sinisterly dangers of the Games, so I think you'll be fine."

"Thanks," he said plainly, yet secretly humorous. "Your use of peculiar words has shown me a whole new way of seeing things."

I snickered.

Our conversation carried on as we journeyed through the college's labyrinth. I quickly recognized Aiden as the loquacious, funny, super-friendly kind of popular person. Strings of jokes and farcical past stories manimitted from his mouth without regard as if the connection from his mouth to his brain had been snipped. There were no dull moments in our conversation, and whenever an imminent awkwardness was approaching, Aiden would instantly patch it up with another story of his. So basically, it was pretty interesting talking to this guy.

It was when we reached the secured doors of the omega dormitory when I told I had to go. It wasn't that I disliked his presence, but because alphas were not permitted inside here.

Unwanted pregnancy was a huge deal here, so the people who ran the colege here tried everything in their power to prevent it, and supposedly that resulted with banning alpha (even friends) from the omega dormitory. They surmised that alphas were incapable to surrending to their instincts, claiming that if they smelled an omega in heat, they wouldn't be able to help themselves... which I thought was total balony. I had a friend in high school- _alpha_ -who actually assisted his omega friend into her house late at night when she's accidentally fell to heat; unfortunately, when he arrived at her house, _he_ had become the victim in her parents' eyes simply because he was an alpha who was near an omega in heat. It was disgusting.

To make things fair, however, us omegas weren't allowed in the alpha dormitories either. Betas were the only ones (of both genders) allowed in the same dormitory. Sure, it was law that only _same-sexes_ were allowed to share a dormroom together, but technically both genders resided in the building, so that in my mind (and many others) was considered sexism. Yes, alphas and omegas were more carnal and sexually-driven when around each other, but that didn't change the fact that the rules were unfair.

Aiden halted me hastily when I tried to leave, and swiftly fished out his phone. My jaw felt heavy as I gawked at the _brand-new_ , Honed Claws phone. "Honed Claws" was a company who constructed top-of-the-line cell phones, and it seemed they only constructed their products for the rich considering how _obscene_ their prices are. Unlike humans, us shape-shifters composed our devices out of magic in stead of electricity. Apparently we already had magic living in our blood, so simply just holding the phone charged it. I bet if humans could do this, their lives would improve double; to us, it was a pain-in-the-butt simply just commanding it what to do. Oh, yeah; to open apps, tex, call, etc, all we had to do was speak it in our mind. The devices responded automatically like how a pet dog obeyed its master. Also, we didn't need lock screens because the devices were intelligent enough to indentify who their 'master' was.

It was a shame we couldn't actually _project_ our magic though. Sometimes I wished school had classes where we'd learn how to operate objects that could transfer our magic for us, but apparently it was dangerous to train our magic at this stage (since our bodies were still developing with puberty and such), so only the older shape-shifters (late thirties, later in life...) were given permission to practise in the arts of witchery/wizardry.

Aiden shone his device to me with a hopeful, cheeky grin plastered to his face, and immediately I knew where this was going. _So_ that's _why he wanted to talk to me in private...,_ I thought gloomily.

"I'm sorry," I told him flatly, "I don't have a phone." _I'm not interested..._

His face was quirky and unconvinced. "You don't have a phone? At this age?" he asked, doubtful, yet still intent on getting what he wanted.

"No," I answered, colourless.

"Why not?" he pressed.

"My... parents don't trust me with one yet." That was a lie; my parents had been mentioning getting me a cell phone since I was in grade seven.

I felt guilt deceiving Aiden, but his intentions were clear to me, and that wasn't something I wanted - not now, at least. I was afraid that if I handed him my number all willy-nilly, he'd perceive it as me _agreeing._ I didn't want him to think that I wanted him, too. Another thing too was: I barely even knew this guy. Right now, we were still on the still-getting-to-know-each-other stage - the _first_ stage. Cell phone numbers came later, like when the two people have actually established trust for each other and _know_ that the other won't bombard the 'friend' with unwanted messages even after he/she had told them to stop.

"Well, um... you do know you're no longer dependent on your parents now," Aiden implied.

 _Good point. Shit_. "Uh... well, I just- I don't _have_ one yet. I'm sorry, Aiden."

He stared at me, half-unconvinced and half-determined. "Just give me your number, Louis," he said, humour emptied. "I promise I'm not a creep. I would only like a chance."

"A chance..," I muttered. "A chance for what?"

He looked like he'd been slapped. His face was mangled in an uncomfortable startled look, yet he managed to post a smile and simply said, "Just a chance." Then, after a silent moment, he added a finishing "Please?"

I sighed exasperatedly and tucked my face into my palms, groaning into them. This persistance of his was getting ugly, and _really_ annoying really fast. Didn't he take the _hint?_ He must've not been accustomed to rejection; consequently, he must've not _understood_ it either. Great. Just what I needed. Though, I wasn't going to give in; I didn't want to teach this guy that persistence (being pushy, annoying, and childish all at the same time) always rewarded him.

I detached my hands, letting them droop by my sides. I gave Aiden a solid look. "No."

He was unfazed. "But Lou, I- "

"NO!" I bursted, then, with a few calming breathes, I repeated in a sincere, less hostile tone, "No, just- _no_ , Aiden, okay? It's a no."

He continued to stare at me. It took a few seconds for him to learn to accept the answer when he sighed and whispered a small "sorry" to me and ducked his head slightly in a sheepish manner. I'd had enough, however, and -with a swift turn of my heels- stormed through the doors.

I'd had enough of alphas for the day.

 

 

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I studied for a gruelling twenty minutes before it became time for me to head down to my class. The quiz wasn't too bad; I'd rate it an eight on a scale from one-to-ten. It was when I returned, however, did things go from pleasantly-happy town to rock bottom what-has-my-life-gone-to village. Right from the moment when I walked in through the door room door, I sensed something was _off_. Maybe it was my lucky conscience, but the fact that it was _deathly quiet_ in the room raised one thing: suspicion.

Discomfort thickened the air as I closed the door and emerged into the room. A small whimper cut through the silence. I quickly raced around the side of Niall and I's bed and found... a Niall? It was Niall- _Jesus Christ_ -and he clutching a... jar of Nutella? He was clutching an empty jar of Nutella to his chest as if it was the only thing on earth keeping him alive as he rocked back and forth on his backside, eyes wide and crazed.

" _Niall?_ Niall, what the hell- ?"

His eyes snapped up to me and he ceased rocking. It was as if I was trapped in a horror movie and the evil doll had finally found me... except the doll was five foot six and was adorable... in a wicked way.

"Lo-Louis?" he whispered, reminding me of someone who'd been trapped on a deserted island, sanity-abandoned, and had just seen a human for the first time in a long time.

Although, in an instant, Niall's face went dark. "Louis...," he hissed, slowly presenting me the empty jar of Nutella and pointing to it, "h-he did this..."

I was confused, but thankful that he didn't want to kill me. "Who did this?"

Niall lunged towards me like an starving lion, glowering at me as he fisted my shirt and shadowed over me. You could say I was scared shitless.

" _HEEEE_ DID THISSSS!!"

I raised my hands in the manner of surrending, except my only intention was to soothe this raging koala bear. "Okay. Okay, Niall. I know. _He_ did this."

"HE DIIIIIDDD!!" Niall cried, emotions warped and messy as he suddenly released my shirt and slumped against the side of the bed.

"But _who_ is _he?_ " I tried again.

Thankfully, Niall didn't surge at me again. His looked at me calmly, yet saddened and offended, like a child who'd just been bullied on the playground. He dragged his feet towards himself, hugging his knees to his chest and lay his head between the wedge in his knees.

His eyes found me and stared at me in kittenish sadness. "L...Liam," Niall sobbed, as if he were telling me the name of his bully. "He... he..." Niall sniffled, rubbing his tear-stained face with his sweater paws, "h-e ate all the Nutellaa-a- _aaaa!_ "

I gathered the full-out-crying boy in my arms and cradled him, whispering sweet nothings in hopes that he'd calm down soon. It took a good five minutes until Niall had reduced to small hiccups and sobs, and eventually just tiny sniffles that signalled that it was okay to talk to him now.

"I don't think Liam ate all the Nutella, Ni," I told him, quietly and pacifying. "He told us before that he doesn't even like chocolate."

"It's not _chocolate_ ; it's _HAZELNUT!_ " Niall bellowed, though -nontheless- he squirmed to gain a proper, comfortable position in my lap and reached up to wrap his arms around my neck. I felt his wet face stuff into the crevice of my right collarbone as he continued to sniffle.

"I know, Niall. I'm sorry."

He groaned sleepily. "Louis?"

"Yes?"

"Will you..." He sniffled, "sleep with me?"

"Yes, of course, Niall."

"In bed?"

"Yup," I said as I simultaneously began lifting Niall (he was actually fairly light) in my arms.

"Now?"

"Yes, Niall."

I gently plopped down on our bed with Niall safely secured in the brace of my arms. He shufffled closer to me (if that was even possible) and quite remarkably fell asleep just like that. I assumed Niall must've had some sort of Head-Space condition where he unconsciously fell into a baby-like state of mind. I didn't know who ate the Nutella, but I wasn't about to become Sherlock Holmes. I'd buy a jar before Niall would've woke up in the morning... hopefully he wouldn't remember anything, and that poor Liam wouldn't have feel the wrath of the resentful omega.

 

 

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"Alright, everyone got what they need? No one's forgetting anything- oh, heyheyhey, you should _not_ be doing that! Mr- what is it?- MR. MALIK, IF YOU _PLEASE!!_ " the substitute Nature Studies teacher yelled, desperately trying to be heard over the loquacious college students as we all swarmed and gathered into the two buses.

Since there weren't many people who'd taken Nature Studies, the teachers decided to pair both the older and freshmen classes together, so that meant Zayn was joining in on the ride (pun unintended). Unfortunately, the bad boy had already managed to paint the already-disrespected substitute's face into a reddened, stressed-out colour. I felt bad for her, but it was something every willing substitute should be aware of. Though, with Mr. Higgins being (apparently) sick and absent, that kinda improved the joy of the trip knowing we didn't have to cope with the fearful cloud of imminently getting in trouble from the strict authority hovering over our heads every second.

Right now, Zayn seemed pleased with himself for achieving the quality of the substitute's emotional state and grinned, thriving in the success of his antics. It puzzled me how one person could erupt such a reaction from simply feigning tipping over a flower pot.

"Zayn, if you _please_ ," I told him, mocking the substitute (I know; I'm malicious, too), though half-hoping he'd actually listen and stop creating a damn hassle. It was a school field trip - hadn't he gotten in trouble enough for throwing KFC chicken at the Captain of the Cheerleading Squad ( _"They rejected my girlfriend because apparently she 'ate too much', so I decided to give the Captain a little help 'cause I didn't think she ate enough."_ )?

Zayn chuckled as he began to board the one school bus, me following in suite. "Don't tell her either, but I didn't even hand in my permission form."

 

 

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The sky was looking sick again by the time we reached Waterloo, which was basically a greenhouse consisted of supernatural plants. By the time we stepped out of the bus, it started to spit, so the teachers quickly hustled us inside; unfortunately, a few poor souls had been caught in the downpour that occurred just a minute later. It wasn't even April yet and already it was raining constantly.

Zayn's girlfriend, Perrie (an omega), had rode on the other bus, so it became quite a hassle trying to scope her out through the incessant crowds of bodies, so Zayn and I had decided to stick together until we found the perky blond. Being trapped in the hordes of people, I'd nearly parted away from Zayn. Somehow (and miraculously), he'd managed to catch me by the elbow (quite harshly, actually) and yanked me right through the mess.

I'd felt his arm instantly wind around my lower back and tug me right close to him after that, flattening me against his side, but I chose not to fight; I'd preferred  _not_ to get mangled, thank-you, and staying close to a friend comforted my claustrophobia.

When they finally opened the freaking doors, the hounds were released (if you know what I mean) and we could finally gather some air. The place was wide, spacious, and _huge_. It smelled like dirt and fresh, oily grass. It was like the size and height of an Ice Centre - like, with an enormous ice rink and stuff. Only there was no ice rink; just plants and fertilizers and whatnot.

The first thing our guide told was to "not touch any of the plants" because apparently some of them were poisonous to the touch. An unsettling feeling became suspended in the room. Deadly plants... joyous. What better way to enjoy a field trip than to have the worry of potentially dying hovering over your head?

We kind of split up after that. The great thing about college and/or university: independence was stressed. Not in a bad way, but in a you're-basically-adults-now-so-we-shouldn't-have-to-worry-about-you-brats-anymore kind of way. I started for the Xavas exhibit (plants with sweet-tasting leaves; there were samples being offered at their spot), but Zayn had a different agenda and (gently) tugged me over to the Dragonsnappers (spicy-tasting plants; any part of it gave you a pepper-hot experience).

The things were huge -far bigger than in the textbook- and, 'course, leave it to Zayn to pluck at the damn thing.

"Zayn!" I hissed, but it was too late; he'd already tore off a leaf.

The leaf looked to be the size of my hand ( _Jesus Christ_ ) and its edges were serrated. Zayn seemed to take an immediate interest in it (as it'd seemed) and nipped at the edge, tearing it with his teeth and chewing slowly, concentrating on the taste.

"You _beast_ ," I said, though I'm sure Zayn (if he'd heard me) took it as a compliment.

Within a few seconds of rebellious taste-testing, Zayn spit out the leaf bit and tried to fix the lignering taste in his mouth with his tongue. His face crinkled in disgust in the process.

"Spicy?" I teased, snatching the leaf from him before he could cause further damage and tossed it into the plant's pot, hoping it could be perceived as a leaf that simply chipped off its stem.

Zayn composed himself. "No." He wrinkled his nose. "Just tastes _bad_."

"Yeah. Perhaps you should've eaten that with cheese."

Zayn snorted as he guided me away from the Dragonsnapper. "Don't like cheese. I'd probably go with some ketchup."

"Ew!" I exclaimed.

Zayn found humour in my aversion. "Or maybe some mustard would go good with it... I'll have to remember to try both."

We continued to batter back-and-forth meanwhile checking out the exhibits of plants and discovering which ones were poisonous due to the yellow taping labelled with a DO NOT TOUCH sentence in black, bold letters. 'Course, when we'd come across a poisonous one, I had to yank Zayn's reigns back so he wouldn't potentially kill himself (Zayn Malik cause of death: curiosity).

It was about ten minutes into our tour when we finally stumbled across Perrie. Zayn and I made our friendly departures after much insisting from me that, yes, I'd very much be fine on my own. Zayn smiled to me and laced his arm around his mate and sauntered off.

I ventured over to the Xavas where I previously wanted to see and took a sample from the plastic box sitting on a wooden table in front of the exhibit and timidly nibbled on the tiny leaf. It tasted funky, yet sweet, kinda like-

Wait.

Removing the leaf from my mouth, I slowly wheeled around after hearing the echo of a _certain_ voice. I didn't see him at first through the crowd, but then as the bodies cleared, there he was, chatting up some omegas. They were extremely coquettish in their attempt to seemingly win him over. Of course they were. I wasn't surprised that _that_  aspect of him hadn't changed. Styles had always been the ultimate flirt and omega-whore back in high school; seemed he was living up to his reputation. I wondered how long he had put those poor omegas under his dark spell for; regardless, it wouldn't take long for a heart-break to occur.

I watched surreptitiously as Harry's lips curled in disdain as one female omega touched his clothed chest, beaming and inecting as much flirtation in her actions as possible. She could've been the cheerleading Captain for all I knew, but no matter what, every omega seemed to fall under the influence of Harry's cheeky charm. Sometimes I felt like I should've joined that group of (pathetic) omegas and saved myself the regret of being my own reason for earning Harry's bullying, but I knew could never forgive myself if I ever stooped to their level.

I panicked when Harry abruptly turned his head toward me, eyes seemingly catching mine for a moment... but God, I really hope they didn't. Embarrassment seethed inside me and I felt the hot stream of self-loathing pool in my belly. I needed to leave, and I needed to leave _now_.

I hastily (yet unsuspiciously) zipped over to a different exhibit while simultaneously making sure I was at an undistinguishable distance from Harry. Subconsciously, my fingers feathered over the petals of a tall, pink flower as I followed down the line of plant exhibits lining this wall. I halted when I noticed yellow tape stretched across and shielding a yellow flower in the same exhibit, making sure not to touch _that_ one.

"Hm.. the poisonous touch."

I retracted my hand so quickly it almost torn off my wrist. I jerked around and my breath caught sharply when I saw him standing right _freaking_ there in front of me, and I mentally commented on how remarkly quick Styles had tracked me down.

"Louis," he said, as if greeting me in a friendly, gentle manner.

His face was impassive, yet there was a glint that promised either two things: mischief or something of benignity. The speed of my heart convinced me it was mischief.

"Hi," I squeaked, hoping he'd just leave now. I wanted to enjoy this field trip; not endure another lecture from Styles's crafty arrogance.

With uneasy steps, I continued to follow down the exhibits. I glanced at them absentminedly, my mind solely set on the bully trailing beside. His vibe felt dangerous and parlous, and settled a discomfort in me whenever he was around. My blood felt cold, and for a second I forgot my fingers were still attached.

He spoke first. "So, S.S Sports?"

I ignored him. _Go away now_.

"I didn't know you were into sports, Louis," he continued, an amused smirk traced in his voice. "Then again, Nick _did_ tell me you're now apparently taking an internship to coach for the alphas' football team." He paused for a moment, as if letting the news of his acknowledgement sink in. "Did I get it? 'S that right?"

I didn't reply; I just continued walking down the exhibits, occassionally twining my fidgeting fingers together in an anxious manner. I was hoping he'd eventually lose interest in the absence of reactions and leave.

"Why are you taking an internship for that? I thought your life goal was to stay at home."

Resent lurched inside me, burning under my skin. I would not react, I would not react. This was what he wanted, yeah?- _My reaction_. It _satisfied_ him - let him know he'd succeeded in his malevolent schemes. I forced my reaction back into its cage, though the heat of my anger rolled in my stomach. Possible combats skirmished on my tongue, itching to make an appearance... yet I resisted.

"Hm," he hummed lowly in his throat, "I take that as a discussion-for-later topic, yes?"

I pressed my lips together.

"My, Louis, now what have I possibly done to deserve this silence?"

My jaw clenched.

"So very bold of you, sweets, to choose to ignore me," he said, an innocent tone feigning on his tongue. He didn't sound angry - just... plain. Plain in a sort-of amused way.... great. "I would've thought after our previous enocunters that you'd have some... _questions_ for me."

What questions? Oh, like how the hell you managed to get here? Did you _know_ I was attending here this year? Have you _always_ been here? Did you _not_ know I'd be here? Are you bloody _stalking me_ , or did you just-so-happen to be at S.S Sports at the same time I was on my shift? Yeah, you could say I have a few quizzers for you.

"Where's the retaliation, sweets?" he asked, his aggravation peeking through his tone. _Now_ he was getting annoyed.

I made a swift cross over to the other exhibits nearby. Just as a small relief sprinkled inside me at the possibility that I'd lost Harry, I noticed him creep up beside me. I quickly avoided his face and spun around, facing my back to him as I begun trailing up the new exhibits, though I hardly registered any of them, my consciousness too distracted by the presence looming behind me.

His figure was seamless as he glided up beside me. His posture was poised and healthy, and his hands were burried in his black jeans pockets. To my self-detest, I noticed the mountains of muscles hidden underneath his clothes, giving a chilling, dangerous vibe. Had he been working out lately? It wasn't much of a difference from our first encounter a few weeks ago, but the small change was still evident, and it definitely sculpted his power.

"Eventually you won't be able to avoid me anymore, Louis," he said defiantly. "Right after I'm chosen for the Games, my name will be the last thing you forget on this earth."

I couldn't control the sharp gasp that tore through my lips. The Games? Wait, Harry entered _himself_ into the _Games?_ I hadn't thought about this before... though I had also made a mental pledge to myself to not ever voluntarily think of this boy, but... the _Wolf Games?_ Harry actually entered himself into that thing? Why? 'Course, he was legible: twenty-one and alpha - both the requirements. But... _why?!_ Was he trying to prove something by entering in this parlous thing? Or was it simply in an alpha's nature to do dumb things because YOLO (that was a joke; I don't actually say "YOLO")?

You had to be an _idiot_ if you entered just for fun and -as _much_ as I _despised_ it to say- I didn't believe Harry Styles was an idiot. Arrogant, rude, and alphaistic, but not an idiot.

"I should leave now."

It took me a moment to break through the shell of my reverie before I realized Harry had told me he was actually about to _leave_.

"I enjoyed our _conversation_ , Louis," he said, bitterness stressed on his sarcasm, then turned heel (elegantly) and left.

I blinked, frozen in place, my mind empty all except for the distant sense of bemusement. I wasn't sure why I was so shocked about Harry just admitting he'd entered the Games, but I assumed it was the _mystery_ behind _why_ he did that caught me so off guard. Aiden had a reason: he claimed he needed to live up to his school's expectations. It was a stupid reason, but nontheless still a _valid_ reason. But Harry?... It just left my mind crawling with disturbed confusion.

"Hey, Louis!"

I turned at the mention of my name, immediately recognizing the figure galloping towards me. Aiden grinned as he halted before me as if relieved to finally find me.

"Oh, hi," I said, plastering a smile as I continued down the exhibits, actually anknowledging them this time as Aiden followed beside me.

My eyes subconsciously wandered around the area as Aiden rambled, something about how a plant had nearly bit his hand off when he was only trying to take a selfie with it. Realizing I was unconsciously distracted trying to scope out my bully's whereabouts, I shook my head, chastising myself for ignoring the person beside me and quickly swapped my attention. I shouldn't've been worrying about Styles. I knew what he was like; I shouldn't have to worry about his plans. He couldn't hurt me here anyway; he'd be suspended. He never even laid a finger on me in high school so, yeah, I shouldn't've been worrying.

"....and, um, I was wondering if I could have your number now, if that's okay with you, Louis..."

...Right?

 

 

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It happened in the bathroom.

We were just preparing to leave the greenhouse, and with ten minutes to spare, I decided to go to the bathroom. Better to have gone then than to have gone on the bus, right? Unfortunately, I had no clue what the future had in store for me, so when I was in front of a mirror washing my hands, it wasn't a surprise that my anxiety lurched when I randomly looked up and saw _Harry Styles_ reflected in the mirror standing behind me.

My feet instinctively scrambled for escape, but with my bully standing in the path of the doorway, I had no chance, and was quickly shoved up against the wall by the alpha. It was the same positon I'd been trapped in as yesterday by Harry when I'd been at work; Harry arms barricading me, forbidding my exit.

My startled heart worked desperately, tossing a fit in my chest as the panic fed my adrenaline. Stress strangled my chest, hindering my breathes into choppy inhales and shaky exhales. I was cold again, and my hands were quaking madly (what am I talking about? My _whole body_ was experiencing inward tremours!).

I didn't realize Harry had leant forward until I felt his wet lips ghosting over the shell of my ear, words inevitably flowing out a moment later. His voice held nothing special other than pure malevolence, and though it didn't surprise me, it _terrified_ me. "I didn't get my reaction today, sweets."

My belly filled with a white-hot sensation at the seductiveity Harry was inducing. I tried to squirm away from the intruding mouth, but he simply chased right back, introducing a warning growl that bled straight from his inner wolf - _full alpha_ ; dominant and raging. Frightened, my body paralyzed instinctively. I bit my lips, forbidding the whine nudging from the inside as I felt Harry lean closer - so close, his stomach nearly brushed mine in the process. I was tempted to retreat away, but my inner wolf reminded me of the warning still present. It was then I realized that Harry had used his _Alpha Voice_ on me. It was also then that I realized -if someone didn't get here soon- I was in deep, _deep_ trouble.

"It upsets me when I don't get what I want," he purred hotly in my ear, making his desires clear.

I nearly yelped when I felt his hand clamp voluptuously around my pelvic bone. "How 'bout you say we make a deal, sweets," he told me. "I'll let you go if you show me a little of the old Louis, yeah?" His grip tightened on my hip, insisting. "Bring him back for me... I miss him." He smirked against my ear. "He was so... _comical_."

My insides seared, begging to put him out, regardless of the tiny voice pleaing for me to submit fully and to apologize for whatever reason that was apparently my fault... and _this_ was why I never listened to my wolf.

"I'm not here to entertain your stupid fantasies, Styles," I found myself saying -rather _spitting_ \- at him.

Right after I said that, my anger only rose, increasing my supply of sassy, livid remarks. Harry purred in gratification, only adding to my anger.

"Mm... _there_ he is." Then, he said, "Though, I've known little Louis since grade nine, love. I think he can do _a lot_ better than that."

A gasp shot out of me when an unwelcomed hand- _his hand_ -grabbed my ass forcefully, squeezing with emphasis like I was some prostitute that was openly willing for any sexual encounter.

And that's when I snapped.

My fists were stomping all across Harry's broad chest in a second, pouring out all my anger with every stab of my fists. One thought occupied my head at that moment, and it was to hurt Harry, though in the haze of my anger, my sensibility had been forgotten and I never even recalled noticing how Harry's body _barely shifted_ during all my assaults (and a special collection of stringing cusses that came with the I HATE YOU package).

When my energy had finally diminished and the falls of my fists finally slowed to mild pats, I started to focus on my breathing and realized, _shit_ , I'd fell into his trap - _again!_ I turned my head away, refusing to look at his stupid face. I was still angry, but my energy had puffed out, so all I could do was despise him, and even despise myself for letting myself stoop to his level again. _Again!_

"Don't frown so much, sweets," he told me, accent thick with cheekiness, "it'll create wrinkles."

I hadn't realized I'd been frowning so harshly, but as a last second chance of avenging my dignity, I rebelled against his suggestion; I also might've frowned even harsher.

He only chuckled. "Well, well," he mused, "I didn't think it was possible that something as tiny as you could harbour that much _anger_."

I ignored him.

In a sudden wrench from his fingers, my chin had been hoisted up to face him. The emitting hostility suddenly changed the atmosphere completely. "Wouldn't you say so, _Louis?_ " he ~~asked~~ stated, his alpha roaring through the screen of his words.

I trembled instinctively and my legs fell weak, nearly giving up on me. It was at moments like these where I truely did despise being an omega: I couldn't have control over my own body; it was as if this alpha owned me,  _controlled_ me _,_  and could do whatever he wanted with me because, God forbid, I was the 'lower' species.

Tears peppered at my eyes as self-frustration welled inside me. "Yes," I squeaked, but it wasn't necessarily me speaking. It seemed as though the word had been _forced_ out of me under the authority of my wolf under the authority of the alpha in front of me.

A sick satisfaction stretched across his face. "Good." Then he lunged forward and -I'd never forget this moment because- he kissed me.

 _He kissed me_.

I reacted... I didn't react. I couldn't. I literally -with all my might- could _not_ do _anything_. I could feel it though; my back being pushed roughly against the solid wall behind me and the pressure of Harry's rough, plump lips moving against mine.

I didn't have time to be confused because -in that moment- my mind had been clouded with fear and the frustration of my unwanted submission. My only solace was the fact that my lips never actually followed in sync with his; they just remained frozen- _emotionless_ -against his, just like the rest of me.

My hands hovered in the air a few centimetres away from my chest, brushing occassionally against his shirt as his chest heaved like an angry grizzly bear. His large, calloused hands were cupping either side of my face, holding me in place, yet the gentle grip gave me hope that he purposefully planned not to damage me too much.

It was against an alpha's nature to harm omegas, even when they were seething and in full-out rage mode. Yet this didn't apply to _all_ alphas. Sometimes this instinct had been disabled in some alphas' minds, either at birth or after suffering serious brain trauma. It was just like a broken chip in a way. Upon this encounter, I was convinced Harry Styles's 'chip' had definitely been affected... but not lost (not completely; close, but not completely). Either way, he was putting me up against my will, and _that_ hurt.

It seemed now I was just waiting for him to stop. I cried internally when Harry wrenched my mouth open with his strong lips and freely explored the inside of my mouth. His hot breath slithered and twirled into my mouth, on my tongue, teeth... just everywhere that he could possibly violate me. He seemed desperate in his forcing, overlapping his tongue over mine as if planting his dominance.

Desperation coiled inside me, praying he'd stop soon. He did, but with a few not-so-subtle nips to my lips, as if to reassure me something. His teeth made an appearance as they seemed to try and knit and bond with the abused part of my face. I slowly started to reunite with self-control and -upon response to the sharp pains happening on my lips- a small tear ran a wet track down the side of my face.

When Harry reeled back (after one last peck), his tongue poked out and scooped up the saliva remains, apparently cherishing the taste as he hummed contently. I felt my insides curl with revulsion at the sight. He smirked maliciously and reached up and lightly danced the pads of his fingers across the planes of my molested mouth, looking mesmerized as he did it, too. The gentle touches tickled my lips and I desperately wanted to flinch away, but the lingering Alpha Voice kept me nailed down.

Another frsutrated tear escaped. God, I hated being an omega...

"Thank-you, Louis," he said casually, like nothing had happened, and even backed away from me. He fixed his jacket, then said with a glint of baleful nature, "I hope for us to do this again some time."

I waited until he left out the door before I collapsed onto the dusty, cold floor and bawled my eyes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, THAT just happened. Don't kill me, please?
> 
> Comments? :)


	5. cнooѕιng cereмony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warriors are chosen for the Wolf Games - finally! And there's a little added surprise to the mix that Louis isn't so fond of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW! IT'S BEEN SO LONG AND I'M SO SORRY! 
> 
> I've mostly been working on my second chapter for "Little Big Prince" because God knows how long ago that's been updated. Unfortunately, it's way too long and it's taking me some time to edit and polish it. In the mean time, I'd been working a bit on this chapter, but because so many of you have been so patient and lovely, I had to do something about it and so I decided to give you what I had so far. It's just a little bit (unfortunately), but it's still something for now :)
> 
> Hope you like it! :D

 

"COME ON, BOYS!! PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT!! CAL- shit, what's the name?... Calum?... MR. _HOOD_ , PUT SOME EFFORT INTO IT, BOY!!! YOU'RE SLACKING!! DON'T MAKE ME GIVE YOU LAPS!!"

I rolled my eyes as the coach yelled profanities and abuse to the alphas' football team as they practised out on the soggy field. The sky was moody again today and would rain on-and-off. The coach and I had been fortunate enough to have a canopy of trees to guard us from the rain's assaults; unfortunately for the alphas, there was no converage for them, and they were forced to practise under the downpour.

They seemed to engage in some sort of dance as they battered the ball back-and-forth, and the rain seemed to compliment the somewhat beauty of it. The practise had been getting fiesty over the course of the last half hour. The kicks became more angry and vigorous, the running more strenous and hasty, and the body-shoving more popular and indignant. I was worried something bad might happen soon, but the coach seemed oblivious to the overcompetitive atmosphere and continued to badger the players like he'd been doing for the past two hours.

The incident happened when Calum had been robbed harshly of the ball by one of the opposing players. He skidded to a wobbly stop and just _fumed_ \- balled fists and red face kind of fume. He growled once then curled slightly in towards himself, torso muscles pronouncing. The next thing we knew, Calum had expelled into a huge black wolf, pants torn and screwn on the swampy ground. His low growls thundered across the earth bed.

The players paused to marvel at the student who was bold enough to actually break the rule of shape-shifting on campus; however, that only lasted two seconds before the same alpha who shoved Calum succumbed to the temptation of the challenge and leaped into a great, big brown wolf -slightly bigger than Calum- and crashed into Calum in a heap of grisly snarls, snapping teeth, and belligerent wrestling as they rolled and slammed onto the wet ground.

The reaction was instantaneous. The coach immediately raced over to the warring duo, the ground sloshing against his hasty footfalls. I watched, bemused, underneath the trees as the ground seemed to shudder with each slam to the earth floor. It wasn't until I felt a hand grab my shoulder when I snapped out of my reverie.

"Come _on_ , Louis," Luke said, hurriedly, "we should go - _now!_ "

We both bolted for the doors, following after the alphas who were being summoned into the building by authorities as teachers exchanged themselves outside and towards the fight in attempt to manage it.

Well, seemed like practise was ending early today.

 

 

 

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"... yeah, and so the principal came out and just... _stopped_ it!"

"Just like that?"

" _Just_ like that! Huh, I'm not surprised though; I mean, have you _seen_ that guy? He's _huge!_ "

"He probably just had to approach them and they submitted."

"Probably."

"I hate to imagine what punishments those two got for breaking the rules."

"It's been two days and nobody's seen them since - they probably got _expelled_."

"Maybe.... oh, shit, we're gonna be late!"

"I thought the Choosing Ceremony didn't start for another hour though!"

"Yeah, but by then all the good seats will be taken."

 

 

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It was five minutes before the Choosing Ceremony started and already the gym was _packed_ with every student from every corridor. The lights were all weak, most likely done on purposeful, making the statue's flames appear more vibrant and significant. Niall had yanked both me and Liam out of the dorm a half an hour before the Ceremony to get decent seats. Fortunately, Niall's new-found friend had saved all of us a seat up close to the statue.

I purposely sat between Niall and Liam so that it'd be less likely for a meddle to break out between the two during the Ceremony (Liam was too professional to ignite a vocalized quarell during an assembly, but no doubt he'd give in to Niall's prodding after a few minutes). Niall's sass and Liam's opinionated attitude clashed quite frequently. It'd become so bad, the bickering had basically become part of our daily routines. In the morning, Niall would itch and bug Liam, pushing for a fight, for which Liam would always succumb to, regardless of his sensibility. At night, they'd banter incessantly from their beds about who had the worser lives: omegas or betas. Neither won nor lost due to stamina and would fall asleep before anything else could be declared.

The gym suddenly hushed when Mr. Cowell made his appearance. There were snide whispers, most likely about the incident two days ago with Calum and the other boy, but were silenced upon the dismissing gesture from the principal.

"Thank-you everyone for coming here," he said, his voice naturally loud. "Now, for the moment you've all been anticipating: it's time for the Warriors Selection."

A Warrior was someone who was chosen for the Games. One "Warrior" represented a school; like, for example, the _Métamorphe_ Warrior. I didn't understand why they didn't just call them something more dignified, like "Champions" or whatever...

I watched, agitated, as the principal slowly approached the statue, like a human cautiously approaching a bear, and delicately flattened his palms on either side of the stoney cheeks. He lingered for a moment before detaching his large hands and slowly backed away, waiting. Then, the statue's eyes flashed an icy-blue, as if being switched on, and -with a rocky, grumbling sound- the statue fluidly lifted its head, pointing its snout towards the ceiling, acting as if it were alive, but everyone knew that Mr. Cowell had just activated the magic.

The blue flame dancing and twirling at its mouth quickly changed to a reddish colour along with its eyes, and then -in a sudden spit of flames- something launched out from the flames of the mouth, slowly gyrating back down towards the ground. I soon found out it was a piece of paper- _a vote_ -as Mr. Cowell caught it with ease between his fingers and unravelled it, reading it.

Everyone held their breath as they awaited the answer.

"The Mac tíre Academy's Warrior," announced the principal, "is Aiden Grimshaw!"

_Aiden?_ _Really?_

The gym erupted with clapping and a few whistles presumably from the Mac tíre students at the revelation of the first Warrior. Aiden appeared beside Mr. Cowell after a few seconds of descending the bleaches and respectively shook the principal's hand. He was gestured towards the stage where he'd stand along with the other two.

But... _Aiden?_ _Really?_

Niall nudged me in the side. "Tat's one popular fello," he whispered loudly, trying to overcome the clapping (which was slowing down now). "He'll get lots 'o support from his friends."

"Well," I sighed, "at least he's meeting their expectations."

I could tell Niall was puzzled by my comment, but he didn't get a chance to reply as the gym became quiet again - the next Warrior to be announced now.

My curiosity sprung as I subconsciously surveyed the area for a particular curly-haired one. None. Least, not from my point of view. It was only because last time we had an assembly he made a rather... _dominant_ appearance. I was comforted by the fact that I was shielded by my friends... though, knowing Styles, he wasn't the one to be easily intimidated - _especially_ by "other ranks". Not even other alphas scared him.

I shook my head abruptly. _Stop - pay attention now_.

Another paper was already airborne by the time I reattached my attention. Mr. Cowell snatched it gracefully and unfolded it, hoisting his head immediately.

"The Métamorphe Warrior," he said, "is Luke Hemmings!"

_"What?"_ I heard others exclaim from around us, startled. Regardless, people clapped and cheered for him, showing undivided respect for the choosen one (God, that sounded so stupid...). I was startled, too -I'd admit that- because who knew that _Luke_ -the shy boy from the football team- would volunteer to be a _Warrior?_ I was impressed, a little addled, but still impressed nontheless, and I clapped proudly.

Luke seemed hesitant as he approached the principal and accepted the handshake. I was suddenly curious, but didn't ponder it when Luke united with Aiden up at stage.

Which one was next?....

Oh, uh, Neugdae..?

Yes, it was the Korean school - the school for exceptionally smart kids. I didn't even bother considering for that school with the obscene amount of marks they required from student who requested entry into the University. I was good in school, but I wasn't _that_ smart.

There was silence as everyone now waited for the last person to be announced. I unconsciously leaned forward, just as interested as everyone else when the paper flung out from the flames in a mash of concluding licks from the fire mouth and drifted back down, spiraling down slowly. It wasn't actually that slow, but it felt that way.

Mr. Cowell caught it and read it, turning to us and said, "The Neugdae University Warrior is... Harry Styles!"

What?

My chest clenched as my body hauled backwards in shock.

Harry... _Styles?_ What the _hell?!_ Harry wasn't even... he couldn't have been- he wasn't a Neugdae student - he wasn't even _Korean!_ Well.... okay, it was very possible he was still accepted for marks but- _WHAT THE HELL??_ Even with marks, what was the possibility of Harry freaking Styles getting into _Neugdae?!_ He wasn't even that smart!

... Was he?

Sure enough, the big guy himself appeared from the bleaches and -presenting that infamous, golden-boy smirk he always did- shook the principal's hand. He glanced to his applauding audience and immediately the sounds of squealing females could be heard from down below on the bleaches.

But... what? It perplexed me on two notes: one, that Harry Styles actually had a high IQ; two, that he really was a _Warrior_ now. He was going to be competing for the trophy against two others... he was _actually_ doing it - being in the Wolf Games... being a competitor. He was actually _right_ about something.

It was all too overwhelming for me to take in.

"Hey, Lou, you ain't lookin' so well," Niall commented suddenly, implying on my appearance.

Why, did I look pale? I was starting to feel a little sick... _maybe I should go to the bathroom_.

" _Ugh_ ," I groaned, "I'm, uh... I'm just gonna go to the restrooms for a sec."

"But the ceremony- !"

But I was already out of my seat and fleeing towards a door that led to the hallways, that led to _privacy_. That's what I needed - privacy. I needed to gather my thoughts somehow - regain my sanity because- _no doubt_ -I was going to go _batshit_ on someone in a few moments for no reason.

"Great! We now have our three Warriors! But be aware, only one will go down in history... only one will hoist-"

Light stung my eyes as I burst through the heavy doors, but I ignored it and rushed towards the bathrom, my mouth already acidy with imminent vomit.

 

 

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Just a few days ago, I was harassed in the bathroom of the greenhouse. I never empathized with people when they claimed they'd received unwanted touches from strangers (AKA, sexual harassment), but now I knew; I knew what it felt like, and I knew exactly how _traumatizing_ it was.

I wasn't sure what damaged my mentality more; the fact that I was harassed, or the fact that it was Harry bloody Styles. I never ever would've suspected such a... _hedonistic_ act from Harry. He always just targetted my status and everything I did wrong - not... _this_. He never touched me- _anywhere!_ -so to say I was confused would be an understatement.

To say I was scared would also be an unstatement.

I never returned to the Choosing Ceremony that day. I wasn't exactly in... proper condition, so I basically just wallowed in my worries and gloom in the dormroom for the rest of the day. It barely occurred to me that I'd accidentally skipped a class.

I felt bad with the idea of leaving my friends hanging, but if I gave them the story of the situation, no doubt they'd (specifically Liam) would report Harry right to the principal. I couldn't have that. I knew Harry too much (sadly). If I ratted him out... he'd get his vengeance. I knew this... it happened before, and Harry was _very_ capable of repeating history.

_"Don't you dare run to your little friends and tattle to them, Tomlinson."_

_"But I'm not doing your homework for you, Harry!"_

_"It's either that or your friends, sweets. As you may already know, I'm very popular here, and I can very easily turn everyone against you. Besides, I don't see what the problem is: you love Math; you're the second highest in the class. It's a win-lose situation, Tomlinson. Just make the right choice."_

And Harry still had the potential to do that. Over the course of the month, I'd seen Harry several times flocked with his so-called friends. He was creating his pack again - rebuilding his power... I was pretty much doomed.

Thankfully, Niall never confronted me about the issue. After he discovered the new, fresh and full Nutella jar I'd recently bought him, it's been his sole focus to guard it from any hungry betas that might've been lurking throughout the dormitory. If I wasn't so concerned about a certain someone being chosen as a Warrior for a certain event, I would've found it funny.

Harry... a Warrior... This was going to be a _long_ year. 

 

 

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"Hey, ter's a party tonight," Niall chirped suddenly, shattering the silence of hard studying, "and it's to celeberate the Choosings of the tree Warriors."

It was quiet.

"I _said_ ter's a party tonight."

Figuring Liam wasn't not going to reply, I sacrificed myself instead. "So... you want to go then?" I asked. _Please, no, I just want to stay here and study._

"Uh, _yeah_ ," Niall exclaims, "and also because I'm sick of listening to you two study. I've already gone through my Playlist _twice_ , and I'm desperate to be entertained."

"Go find Aiden then."

Niall gasped, appalled. " _Ew_ , no! That's gross! He's got a ting for _you_ , Lou."

I flopped onto my open textbook with an exasperated sigh. "Ugh. Don't _say_ that. When you remind me of him, you remind me of the tens of hundreds of texts he sent me on my phone."

Niall suddenly shuffled beside me on our shared bed, an earnest glint in his eyes. "What was he saying exactly?" he whispered.

I fiddled with my fingers assiduously. "Er..."

"If you two are going to gossip about alphas, then I'd much appreciate if you picked somewhere to titter," Liam suddenly says, "somewhere where I'm _not_ studying."

Niall glared snootily. "And while yer at it, why don' _you_ go pick somewhere to complain to yer beta friends, ya two-headed tosser."

Liam discarded his glasses placidly. "If you're calling me names, you might want to go with more precise ones to even out your insults, Niall. For example, a tosser is -by definition- someone who masturbates," the beta explained professionally, "and for me to be called a tosser... well, that's an invalid term."

"You don't masturbate?" I asked, amazed.

But before Liam can answer, a certain omega interjected boldly. "Of _course_ the bloody beta masturbates! Who doesn't at tis age? He be callin' himself a liar is he says he don' heed his twig and berries!"

"NIALL!" I bellowed, shielding my face into the blanket. My face burns red like a parent who'd just been embarrassed by his child in public.

"Ah, I know you believe me anyway, Lou," Niall says as he patted my back several times.

I rolled onto my side. "No, just..." I rubbed my eyes, "it's just the fact that you said... that."

Niall sniggered. "Well ten, Lou, you'd be surprised on the number of ways one can metaphorize the word dick."

I shivered in repulse.

Then, after a few passing seconds, Niall gasped like he'd just made a fabulous discovery. "Oh my _gosh_... yer a _virgin_ , aren't you?"

I nearly choked on my own spit. "Niall!" I gasped, "that's kinda my _own_ buisness!"

Niall hummed mischievously. "So you are a virgin ten... yes?"

I sighed, slamming my face into the blanket. " _Yes_ , Niall, how may I make the answer any more obvious to you?"

Niall snickered like a giddy school girl. "Say penis."

I shook my head into the fabric of the blanket. "Nuh," I stated, muffled.

Niall burst out into bubbles of laughter. "Yer so _prissy_ , Lou!"

"Shu' _up_ , Niall!"

"Look at me, I'm Louis T, lousy with virginity! Won' go ta bed till I'm legally wed! I can't - I'm Louis T!"

"Stop singing Grease after me," I growled.

" _Look_ , if you two are going to head to the party, I suggest you start getting ready _now_ ," Liam implied. "I heard from a few students that the party starts in... five minutes."

" _Five minutes?!_ " Niall shrieked, scurrying off the bed to the dresser. Not so funny now, huh? "C'mon, Lou! Get yer sexy clothes on!"

"I don't have- "

"Hush! Yer gonna wear my skin-tight shorts!" Niall announced, flicking his shorts at me as they rippled onto my back. "Tose alphas will be kneeling before yer golden bum before ya know it, Lou!"

"God, help me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's painfully short, and I know I promised some of you a good long chapter, but I felt so bad for missing two weeks with no updates.
> 
> If you're still a little mad at me, hopefully this tiny bit of information will help you to forgive me: ahem, Harry freaking Styles is going to be at the party.
> 
> ... Er, I probably just worsened it, didn't I?
> 
> Please? Forgive me? Um... I'll give you my cupcake...?


	6. jealoυѕy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall and Louis arrive at the party and Niall's got a fun game for everyone to play! Too bad all Louis gets out of it are two sour alphas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW!! It's been forever! I tried to make this one a little longer than the last one. Hope you like it! :D
> 
> WARNING: There will be a lot of Zouis in this chapter hehehe... :)

 

"Is this it?" I asked incredulously, gawking up at the toilet paper-strewn mansion. Something abruptly shattered from inside the house and I cringed. Teens filtered around the exterior of the huge house, cigarette smoke curling in the air surrounding them as they confabulated in unintelligible slurs and unsystematic laughter.

So... _this_ is what a College party looked like. It was just... I never actually expected _movies_ to be so true to their word. This had to the most typical stereo-type about College 'gatherings'; alcohol, toilet paper, smoking, booming music... did I miss something?

"Yeh," Niall answered - perky, "tis's te one... unless tere's another mansion bein' trashed somewhere around here..."

"No," I said, "I think you're right... this is the one."

Niall beamed. "Great!" He ensnared my wrist firmly. "Let's go ten!" Then I was being yanked across the grass and towards the open entrance.

Obviously whoever was managing this party was confident enough that he/she could trust strangers not to damage his/her house too much by welcoming _everyone_  in by leaving the front door wide open; that, or he/she simply became exhausted with incessantly having to shut the door every few seconds more guests poured in.

Speaking of which, who _was_ running this party?

The moment I stepped into the house, I was welcomed by the horrific pungency of alcohol. My eyes immediately watered, and I noted also how it felt ike I'd just strolled right into an oven. Even with the door open, it was _hot_ in here.

"Okay, look," Niall suddenly said, wheeling around to face me, "I just haf'ta find me friends first before we do anyting else. Tey're here somewhere... Tey tol' me tey would be here..." He shook his head, and grinned sheepishly at me. "Anyway, what I'm tryin'ta say is tat I'll be right back, Lou; just wait here, kay?" A new elated (and mischievous) grin infected his face and he leant towards my face. "I have someting very special planned fer tonight, my sexy omega boy."

His eyes then sketched over my... outfit. I sighed. Well, I guess it wasn't too bad. I felt horrifically exposed, but Niall said I looked "fine," so I've decided to hold onto his words with the last string of what's left of my dignity.

"Till then..." His face then plastered with a serious if-I-catch-you-deceiving-me-I-will-kill-you mask, " _Stay here_." His words were strangely (and unnervingly) firm and genuinely serious... fearsome, but nevertheless just a serious Irish gaze for which reflected my imminent death in the omega's eyes if I ever chose to disobey him.

As if under an intimidation spell, I nodded furiously, and watched as the boy zipped through the crowd, obviously not wasting any time. What was he planning...

"Where'd Ireland go?" someone behind me said out of the blue.

I spun around and immediately brightened at the sight of my co-worker. "Zayn?"

He looked like he'd just arrived -immaculate and alcohol-free (though there was a plastic cup filled with the dark-yellowish substance in his hand, which only meant it'd be a matter of time before he reeked just like everyone else here)- , though with just that black T-shirt and casual, torn jeans, it also looked like he'd just gotten a _last minute_ notification about the party and simply came in what he'd been wearing in bed.

Then, as I drank in the boy's appearance, I faced the inevitable reminder of a memory from our last encounter threading through my mind in the same second, and my happy face quickly dropped.

_"Hey, Louis, you okay there?"_

_I blinked, twisting my head around in response to the jabbing in my side. Zayn stared at me -eyes solid with concern- from the spot beside me on the School Bus back to the College._

_I hadn't exactly said anything since we left the Greenhouse. Every time someone would attempt to initiate a conversation with me, I'd respond fruitlessly, consequently cutting the conversation short. I didn't mean to be so rude, but I couldn't seem to be happy right now. Like, I felt physically_ unable _to be happy no matter how hard I tried to focus on swapping my mood because everytime I drew an attempt, a stucco of disturbing pictures from..._ him _would throb in my mind._

_... Was this what being traumatized felt like? It was like another form of depression, except your mind wasn't blank; it was reeled and overworked with the recent past. If I was in a cartoon, my ears would be breathing smoking by now I'm sure._

_I felt horrid with what I was about to do, especially after I had seen the genuine concern written on Zayn's face, but it was because of moments like these why I ended up the way I did in high school three years ago. I couldn't hurt Zayn with the truth._

_"Yeah, I'm fine."_

_He tilted his head doubtfully, and his brows knitted together - questioning. "You_ sure? _You've been awfully quiet, mate."_

_"Yeah, Zayn, uh..." I clenched my fists on my thighs anxiously, "I'm just wet and tired."_

_"You're not_ that _wet."_

_"Just..." I sighed, "'m just tired and I wanna get back to my dry bed."_

_Zayn considered it for a moment, mulling over my response, then huffed with a concluding smile. "'Kay, mate." He patted me on the back, causing my wet clothes to immedaitely glue to my skin. "I get it. You go get some shut-eye." Then, he turned back to his friends and resumed socializing._

I quickly composed myself and pasted on a smile, removing any evidence of the lingering guilt I still had from deceiving the alpha.

The corner of Zayn's lips tugged upward in a half-smile, then he glanced in the direction of where Niall disappeared off to. "He was off in a hurry... what's his problem?"

"Uhm..." _I'd like to know that, too_ , "I don't know. I just know I can't leave this spot."

"Yeah, I overheard." He smirked humorously when he looked at me. "Hm, looks like he's already got a hold over you though, mate."

"What makes you say that?"

Zayn gestured to me with his free hand. "Louis, honestly, you expect me to believe you dressed yourself tonight?"

Upon that, I blushed madly and seeked to conceal myself, but found it useless; I was wearing yoga shorts ( _"You're on my death list, Niall." "But ye look so sexy, Lou! Ye got a perfect set of golden apples tere, so I say cherish tem!"_ ) that cut off mid-thigh. The only thing that comforted my self-consciousness was the coverage of my over-sized hoodie. Niall wasn't too thrilled about the idea, but he fortunately still had a sprinkle of mercy left in him.

"No, uh..."

Zayn suddenly snickered. "Well, least Ireland's doing something right... I must say, you look really _good_ in yoga pants."

I gave him a weird look.

"It's just a compliment, Louis," he said, taking a sip from his drink.

"I know, it's just..." _that's the first not-insulting compliment I've received about my body (besides Niall, but that's just Niall)._ I wrangled my fingers together nervously, "not something I'm used to."

"Aw," Zayn cooed, "well that doesn't make much sense."

I hummed, peering over my shoulder to see Niall chatting up some friends (must be friends anyway). I quickly turned back to Zayn who was casually drinking more beer and decided I only had a few more minutes left. "Look, Zayn, um..." I ripped a combing hand through my hand nervously, "I have no idea what Niall had planned for tonight, but frankly I'm scared to do it alone, so... could you please stay with me - just until it ends?"

Zayn blinked at me, startled by the assaulting question. "Erm..."

"Please don't make me beg like a pathetic little omega... because I won't do it."

"Well, Perrie couldn't come anyway, so.... I guess I coul- "

"Thank-you!"

And as if right on cue, Niall popped up beside us. "Ay, Lou. I tink I got everyone." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. "You ready fer this?"

"Eh, yeah," I said, "yeah, I am. What exactly are we doing?"

Niall's mouth curled into a giddy grin; a very evil Irish grin that only signalled trouble and chaos. I knew it: I knew I would die early, and to my horror, it was worse than I could've ever imagined, even with Zayn by my side...

 

 

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"TRUTH 'R DARE!"

Niall had managed to herd a small group of people from the party, most of whom I did not recognize, and had us gather into a circle on the carpet upstairs in one of the guest rooms where it wasn't so crazy. The only comfort I found in the large social environment was Zayn, even as he had already engaged in a conversation with a twitterpated omega who wouldn't stop prattling on about the party. I was starting to think she was drunk.

"What?" someone from the circle squawked to Niall.

Niall groaned. "I _said_ : TRUTH 'R DARE!" he hollered, and was in fact the only one standing up. "Do ye not know what Truth 'r Dare is?- 'cause may God have mercy on yer soul if ye don' know what Truth 'r Dare is."

"No, think I got it, Niall."

"You can't be _serious_."

"Been playing it since kindergarten, man!"

Niall stiffled a laugh. "I was only kiddin', Jesus..." He sighed heavily with feigning exasperation. "If ye seriously don' know what Truth 'r Dare is, yer a loser... No, I'm kiddin' about tat, too!"

Groans started carry through the circle.

Niall chortled. "Kay, if ye don' know what it is, it's pretty simple, so I'm sure you'll catch up eventually... or ye can jus' ask yer friends."

"Wow, Ni, you seriously are taking us back to our old sleepovers, huh?"

"This is a _kiddie game!_ "

"What if some of us don't wanna play this game?"

"I CALLED FER TE GAME!! I'M IN CHARGE!!" Niall suddenly bellowed furiously.

Everyone immediately fell silent.

I sneaked a glance over to Zayn who sported the same tense expression as me. Everyone (even the alphas) had seemingly inched away in trepidation from the Irish omega who'd been overcome by the emotional outburst.

"Kay, tat's better," Niall said, unbothered that he'd basically terrified the entire group. "Right, so before we start, tere might be a few extra guests joining us as we play. I... din't quite get to everyone tonight, but I sent 'em a text letting 'em know we're up here, so I'm sure tey..."

" _Truth 'r Dare?_ " Zayn murmured, mocking Niall's accent, "Where'd he get that idea from?"

"Shush," I hissed. "Don't be mean. Niall's nice."

"He's rambunctious is what he is," Zayn corrected, "and very saucy, too." He looked at me, perching one eyebrow. "Does he always get what he wants at the dormitory?"

"Well," I said, "if he doesn't, I fear for Liam's fate."

"Liam?" Zayn repeated, bemused, "You mean... there's _three_ in your- ?"

"Yeah, there's three. Apparently the beta dormitories had run out of space, so we ended up splitting our omega dorm with Liam."

"Did he, like, bring a sleeping bag?"

"No, me and Niall split one bed."

An amused smirk bestowed on Zayn's face. "So, like, does Ireland touch your bum at night when you're not aware, or...?"

I shot the alpha an appalled glare, but I never gave him a response because of the belligerent eyes beaming down on us from above. Hesitantly, I blinked up at the blond omega who didn't exactly look fond of our side conversation.

"You two lovebirds done?" Niall asked rancorously, "because I can stop, and ten let you two chatter till yer hearts desire, tough I'd rather get on with te speech before we start te game... but, ye know, it's yer choice, Louis."

"No, no," I said, "you go on with your talking... 'm sorry for interrupting, Niall."

Niall nodded. "Good."

Then he continued on speaking, though Niall's words became more shallow and distant as the seconds ticked by because as the door of the guest room had creaked open and someone else had invited himself to come and join, I was quickly drawn into a frightful dismay.

Of course. Harry Styles had joined the party.

Harry had become a lot more popular than he was previously, not only with omegas, but also with the alpha males and betas. Huh. Go figure; he was a _Warrior_ after all - and he was representing _Neugdae!_ That was the most prized University to any Wolf wishing to become anything in the high leagues. The curly-haired gremlin had probably gotten everyone wrapped around his finger by now.

Right now, he was flirting up an omega female. I quickly draped my hood over my head, though I just hoped it didn't make the purpose of the disguise _too_ obvious. If he didn't see me, nor realized I was here, I might leave tonight untouched.

From the corner of my eye as I watched Styles smirk cheekily and speak in a sultry manner to the coy omega girl, who seemed to be sponging up every flirtatious gesture with giddy giggles and hair twirling. I unconsciously relived the worst moment of my life when Styles had pinned me to the wall and... did things to me he didn't normally do. It still stuck in my head like a wedged needle, and I hated it. Though, one thing had been confirmed since then: Styles was definitely the filthy omega whore I'd always imagined him to be.

Suddenly the hood was whipped of my head and I hurried to recover it, but someone held it down. I snapped my head to the left.

"Zayn!" I whispered angrily, "what're you doing?! Give it _back!_ "

"What're you doing? You know there's a No-Hoods-On policy, right?" he teased, still trapping my hood against my back.

"We're not in school, Zayn," I told him - irked, "so give it back!"

"No," he simply answered. "You can't show your lovely legs but not show your lovely face."

I blushed incontrollably, though it only added to my hate fire. "Zayn," I growled, tugging one last time on my hood before giving up and sinking into the carpet bitterly.

"Give up, princess?"

I gritted my teeth. "You will _pay_ for this," I promised him.

Zayn chuckled and released my hood. "I look forward to my punishment." He stamped a quick, friendly kiss on cheek before turning back to his conversation with the female omega on his other side (Zayn was smart enough to not cheat on Perrie; I knew he was only being nice to the drunk omega - and me).

However, when I gazed forward, I was greeted again with the sight of Styles, except he was no longer flirting with the female - he was glaring in _my_ direction. My heart hammered viciously on instinct and I glanced away, hoping he'd just do something else instead of looking at me.

I'd just never seen such dark hatred before - not _that_ much hatred. In just a split second, I saw a terrifying concoction of rage and something indescribable reflected in Styles' eyes. Was it the fact that Zayn kissed me?- Oh.... _Oh_ , no. Harry _couldn't_ be jealous, could he? I wasn't about to guarentee anything, but it was definitely a possibility that stuck out there.

"OKAY! We all ready?" Niall exclaimed elatedly.

"We were ready ten minutes ago, Ni..."

"Why don't you just start the damn game and get it over with?"

"What are we waiting for anyway?"

"KAY!" Niall said, boisterously, "we'll start wit... Aiden?"

Suddenly, everyone's head turned to face the entrance just as Aiden Grimshaw had just ambled in and shut the door behind himself. Murmurs broke out among the circle, similar to the reaction Harry received when he first arrived - only he got more titters and coquettish glances from the omegas. But I'm guessing since this was the _second_ Warrior to enter, the hysteria had taken it one more step higher.

"Aiden!" Niall exclaimed, "tanks fer coming."

"No prob, Ni," Aiden grinned, eyes strolling for an open spot to sit, for which in the same moment everyone started shuffling, hoping for the Warrior to sit next to them. Aiden's eyes flickered to the empty spot beside me on the right where the person had shifted farther from me to allow extra space, and the Warrior smiled. He plopped down on the spot on the carpet, silently thanked the person beside him, then wheeled him head towards me and grinned. "Hey, Lou."

Oh.

I forced a smile. "Hi, Aiden."

"So," he said, "what exactly are we doing?"

Abruptly, Niall's soft and melodic voice (note the sarcasm) intervened. "JIMMY, TRUTH OR DARE!?"

"That," I said to Aiden.

"Got'cha," he snickered.

After the game had finally inaugerated, one person had to lick someone else's ear, another had to endure a bag of ice in his trousers for five turns, and another confessed he was obsessed with cheese before erupting into tears, only to be consoled by the female omegas on either side of him. On the fourth person, Zayn had been selected, and I begun watching the game with more enthusiasm.

"Truth," Zayn said, receiving quiet boos from around the circle. He merely sniggered at the disapproving groans.

"'M kay," his perpetrator said, "I want you to... uhm... tell us... who your last kiss was?"

My eyes widened.

Groans repeated like a broken record around the circle, people complaining about the dullness of the question and how "obvious" it was.

Zayn smirked before draping an arm over my shoulders. "Little Lou here was my last kiss if you count the cheek."

Immediately, groans were replaced with coos and adoring hoots. Meanwhile, I was feeling my insides shrivelling up as I slowly died inside. Zayn was being playful and a smartass tease - that's what he was being, and I made a mental note to upper the trauma and pain of his imminent death.

"It was just a _friendly_ kiss though," Zayn soon corrected.

I let out a relieved sigh. _Thank-you... but your torturous death still hasn't changed_.

There were doubtful hums from others, but it was soon cut off when Niall asked Zayn to ask someone else the "Truth 'r Dare question." Zayn unhooked his arm from me and investigated the circle. After a few seconds of anticipation, murmurs to _"ask the Warriors"_ started to become a popular trend around the circle. Zayn smirked at the feverish pushing for him to _"just do it!"_ and eventually he turned to Aiden.

"Truth 'r Dare, Aiden?" he asked, mocking Niall's accent once again and, of course, received a small, indignant _"tat wasn't funny!"_ from the omega.

The corner of Aiden's lips jerked upward in a side-smirk as he stared deliberately down at his hands. He looked up, swooshing his hair out of his face in the process, then told Zayn, "Truth." His eyes whisked over to me, lasting for a second, before returning to Zayn. My brows pressed together - puzzled.

"How does it feel to be a Warrior?" Zayn asked.

Interested whispers swarmed suddenly.

Aiden grinned. "Well," he said, "it's quite the privilege I'll say. I'm glad I get to represent Mac tire Academy, and I hope the Games are as fun everyone's telling me they are."

Cheers meandered throughout the circle, and small congradulations could be heard, too. Then, to break the loving gestures, an alpha male suddenly barked out, _"Harry'll beat your ass, Grimshaw!"_

I looked down instinctively.

"Ha, maybe," I heard Aiden snicker, "but we'll just have to see, right Harry?"

There was a replying _"yeah"_ from the alpha himself just before Niall tried to calm down the group and regain superiority over the game.

"Alright, order! Order, everyone!" the omega yelled, eventually silencing the group.

Now, it was Aiden's turn.

He only searched around the circle for a quick second before his attention fell on me. Dread welled up inside me at the imminent spotlight.

"Louis," Aiden said, "Truth or Dare?"

I swallowed thickly. Uhm... I definitely wasn't going to pick Dare because who knew what lurched inside that devious mind of Aiden's, so I guess...

"Uh, Truth."

Aiden pursed his lips, momentarily glancing over my shoulder before returning back to me. The glimmering humour that was once evident in his expression had suddenly been wiped off his face and replaced with a grudging one. It was like looking into the eyes of a new Aiden - the scary one I'd only seen once before.

"Was it really a 'friendly kiss'?"

Nobody said anything, and I think that's what burrowed the distress further within me. I think it was pretty obvious, and I'm pretty sure everyone else was thinking the same thing about Aiden and I.

_"Uh, yeah," Niall exclaimed, "and also because I'm sick of listening to you two study. I've already gone through my Playlist twice, and I'm desperate to be entertained."_

_"Go find Aiden."_

_Niall gasped, appalled. "Ew, no! That's gross! He's got a ting for you, Lou."_

I bit my lip. Unfortunately, it'd become too obvious now for me to deny it.

"Yes, it was just a _friendly_ kiss," I answered, trying to stay calm. "Zayn has an omega, and we're just friends, so..." I smiled, hoping that was enough. _Please don't press the topic... please_.

Aiden's stony face remained unchanging for two whole seconds before he finally exhaled a sigh and simpered at me. There  were mousy murmurs and giggles in the background. I quickly stared down at a random spot on the carpet in front of me, feeling my chagrin burning up in my face.

"Alrighty, Lou," Niall suddenly said, tearing through the thickness of the awkward atmosphere, "now you get'ta pick someone!"

Oh. Oh, yeah. _That_. Wait... who was I supposed to _pick?_ I barely recognized anyone here!

Everyone's pressing gazes did not help my situation at all. Some of them were still tittering to their nearby friends while making snide glances at me. I prayed internally that they didn't actually believe that Aiden and I were an item. Now _that_ would not end well. With Aiden being one of the three Warriors, he was basically a celebrity now, and all new celebrities were the cynosures of everyone's ogling eyes, and when one was the center of attention, his/her life became the center of attention. Being in the spotlight was definitely something I did not want in my College life - or any part of my life in that matter.

Besides, I wasn't attracted to Aiden.

My eyes battered around the group of unknown people as panic started to settle in. Okay, might as well just get this over with before I make myself look even more stupid...

"Um, Niall," I stated.

Niall suddenly perked up like an interested puppy.

"Truth or Dare?"

The blond omega grinned widely. "Finally, somebody asked me tis. I was startin' to get worried," he joked, rewarded with a few snickers, "Erm... well, since tere's been four truths in a row, I'm'a go wit Dare."

An assortment of "Ooh!"s and anticipated chuckles fluttered in the room.

I smiled mischievously. "Okay, uhm... I dare you..." _What's something I could befall upon this evil Irish omega?... Hm... Oh, yes!_ "...to throw out your last jar of Nutella."

Niall's bright and prideful face melted away quickly into a despondent and rather shocked look. He didn't appear at all to be expecting that kind of dare. I almost felt bad for the boy, but I retaliated myself with the fact that if it weren't for Niall Horan, I wouldn't be wearing these skin-tight yoga pants.

Niall's mouth hung open in the mixture of a gape and a frown. "Yer not... _serious_ , are you, Lou?"

Then someone from the circle blurted out, "Just do it, ya chicken!"

"Yah! It's just Nutella!"

"Not to Niall it ain't. I tell ya, he'd marry a Nutella jar in a heartbeat!"

"No, I wouldn't!" Niall retorted, snapping his head in the direction of the person who claimed he'd marry the Nutella and glared at him hostily.

"Wait, does he even have the jar with him?"

"Yeah, he tells me he brings it with him everywhere he goes!"

"Just be a man and _do it_ , Niall!"

Niall flared. "Alright, _fine_. I'll be a man about it... if tat even applies to omegas... but I'll be a man about it anyway. Where's te jar?"

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

"I'M NOT A MAN!!" Niall bellowed miserably into my shirt where he curled up against my chest on my lap.

The game had ended ten minutes ago, and that was exactly how long Niall had been bawling his eyes out for. They were reddened and sore-looking beyond belief, and still the boy refused to stop crying. I never knew how _important_ Nutella meant to him until now... the boy even looked like he was about to cry after he'd tossed his last Nutella jar into the garbage bin. I'd been feeling horrid about my dare ever since. Thankfully everyone had left the guest room, so that just left me with a sobbing Niall. The privacy gave me some consoling, though if I had one wish right now, it'd be that I could change positions from my sitting one against the hard bed frame; my back was _killing_ me.

"I know, it's okay, Niall," I murmured, simultaneously rubbing his shaking back, "you'll be okay." I honestly didn't know what I was getting at; I just wanted Niall to calm down.

It didn't work (obviously). The omega continued to tremble and sob as fat tears made wet tracks on his cheeks. I decided to tuck his head under my chin and dragged him closer into my embrace. I was relieved when Niall accepted the hug and even burried in closer.

"I... I duh- I don't wanna be a-a man!" Niall cried, sniffling loudly, "I-I-I want muh-my Nu-Nute-NUTELLA!"

My gut chewed up with guilt. "I know, Niall," I whispered, "I know. I'm sorry."

"I.. I..." Niall's muscles tensed against my chest, and he growled, "I want _NUTELLA!_ "

"Uhm." I rummaged hastily for something significant to say. "I'll... I'll buy you a new one, okay?" _Nice..._

Niall's face wrinkled harshly into my shirt, and I figured immediately that he was trying to glare at me. " _You_ -" He sniffed, smearing his sweaty fist across his snotty face, "you _better_."

"I will," I guarenteed him. "I'll buy you a new Nutella jar, kay? That sound good?"

"Yeah." He fisted the collar of my shirt.

Niall had drifted asleep after five more minutes of draining his system of tears, and eventually just became exhausted. I was startled when the doorknob jiggled and the door -without permission- eased open, revealing a familiar black-haired alpha.

"Ireland asleep?" he asked, sauntering over to the bed.

"Yeah, he is," I answered quietly. "Keep your voice low."

"Sorry." He stared down at the sleeping omega in my arms, absorbing the sight for a moment. He looked up at me. "So, how're you gonna get him home?"

"Uhh." I stared down at Niall, cogitating. "I'm not sure. I hadn't really thought of it."

"Well, no offence, but you can't carry him, can you?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. " _No_ , I can't."

"Just teasing, Lou," he reminded me. "Here," he said, reaching out towards Niall and curving his arms, "give him to me."

"Are you sure?"

Niall wasn't exactly the lightest omega there was. I should know: he sometimes unconsciously had lain on me at night by accident. Niall may have been adorable and had looked thin, but the boy sure got some thick bone mass.

"Yeah," Zayn said, untroubled, "though I'd hate to be the person responsible for taking away this adorable picture right here."

I looked down. Niall was curled up like a cosy kitten against my chest. His knees bent and tucked into his belly and his arms were stuffed underneath the side of his head like a pillow. His dark lashes fluttered occassionally and his muscles spasmed off-and-on in response to the dream he was having. Somehow, I also felt a pinch of sadness for breaking apart this darling moment. Still, I allowed Zayn to take Niall anyway.

Niall whimpered -presumably in protest- and his face scrunched up pitifully when encased in Zayn's arms.

"I'm gonna go put him in my car," Zayn told me.

Slipping off the bed, I frowned- _muddled_ -at him. "Why not just walk?" Sure Niall was pretty hefty, but the College was only five minutes away.

"It's downpour outside."

"Oh." Yeah... Niall would be pretty grumpy if he had to wake up in the rain...

I pried open the door for Zayn and closed it behind us. I observed Zayn's stance and noticed how he ambled with unbothered pace, as if Niall's weight didn't faze him at all. Sometimes I really did forget how strong alphas were... and why it was decided that only _they_ were permitted to enter the Wolf Games.

Sigh.

"By the way," Zayn said, "I saw that Aiden kid downstairs after the game... he was acting really weird - like, frustrated or something."

"About what?"

"I don't know. He just had that hard frown on his face and it looked like he was thinking a lot. He'd also glare at me whenever I walked by or said something to him."

I sighed. "Just ignore him, Zayn. When he's ready, he can talk to me, but I don't want anything bad happening between you two."

"S'fine, Lou," Zayn said as we reached the bottom of the stairs. "The kid's just being a little punk is all. Where I grew up, there were a lot more bigger and nastier threats than ol' Diva Aiden."

I scanned the area out of instinct. The party was dwindling. Guests had either chosen to leave or passed out somewhere on the floor or behind furniture. There was a massacre of pop cans and empty chip bags littering the floor. There were also several beer puddles smeared every and anywhere, and it didn't look like anyone had the decency to mop it up. Conclusion: _don't_ throw parties at your _own_ damn house.

"The fact that you call him 'kid' already tells me something about your views on him."

"To me he _is_ a kid," Zayn said. "Parents probably got him whatever his little heart desired growing up."

" _Zayn!_ " I scolded.

"Sorry not sorry. I'm gonna state my opinions whether you like it or not, Boo." He crooked his head to the side to peer at the entrance and the wicked downpour that awaited us. "We should be fine getting to my car; I parked it under the trees." He looked to me. "Might wanna put your hood up, sweetheart."

I gave him a snippy glare before draping the hood over my head, and then followed the alpha out the door and- BLOODY HELL!!- It was _freezing!_ Curse Niall! Curse the malevolent omega for strapping me in these tight-ass, short-ass yoga pants! It felt like I'd stepped right into the icy sea in the winter time. The glacial air bit harshly at my exposed thighs and calves. Suddenly the thought of getting a ride in a toasty car appeared a lot more worthy than the idea of walking to the College.

"Keys are in my pocket," Zayn told me, leaning his hip towards me in emphasis.

I hurriedly fished out the keys and commanded the car to unlock. We both slipped Niall gently into the back seats, careful not to arouse him, and then proped ourselves in the front. Immediately, I started to savour the fact that we were no longer in the chilly outdoors. Zayn ignited the car and turned on the heat, but I knew it take a while for it to load, so I curled into myself like Niall had a few minutes ago and hoped for warmth.

"Jesus, Lou, we were only outside for a few seconds," Zayn remarked as he eased a blanket around me.

I hastily accepted the blanket and burried myself into it, shivering intensely. "S-S-Sorry," I muttered, teeth chattering, "I-I g-g-g-et c-cold e-e-easily."

"No kidding," the alpha marvelled.

It stayed like that for the next full minute, just the heavy pool of silence dominating the atmosphere alongside the distant pattering of the raining on the windows and roof. It was until Zayn released a grisly sigh and announced that he was _"going out for a smoke"_ for a few minutes while waiting for the air to heat up because _"you look like you're about to catch hypothermia, Lou."_

I nodded with eyes squeezed shut and listened to Zayn's door swing open, the unruly smacking of the rain on cement, and then the door slamming shut. I tried desperately to focus on preserving my body heat inside the shell-like form of the blanket as it swallowed my body. Fortunately, as the seconds passed, positive results started showing. My teeth chattering started calming down, my tensed insides slowly unwound, and my shivering became less hostile. When comfort had eased its way into my coiled system, I opened my eyes.

The first thing I noticed was the darkness. It wasn't absolute darkness, but it was nevertheless inky and lightless. The only light offered were the sources inside the house, which soaked through the windows of the car. I couldn't help but also notice how _nice_ this car was... was Zayn rich, or did he save up a lot to get this?

I peeked around my car seat to check on Niall. Yup, still asleep. I sank back into the passenger seat and unconsciously gazed out the window across from me. I blinked, weary, watching with blank eyes as the rain fell incessantly and as two male alphas -one leant against his car and the other smoking- had a conversation. Their words were muffled and incoherent, and their identities were blurred by the rain-strained window, but I think I could distinguish... wait....

Was that- ?

I did a sharp intake and unconsciously clenched the blanket against my chest. The window was smeared and hard to read through, but Harry Syles was close enough to Zayn's car for me to be able to distinguish that- _shit!_ -it really was him.

He was leant up against his car, hands stuffed his jean pockets as he listened to his prattling, cigarette-smoking friend. The two laughed occasionally and didn't seem at all perturbed by the spitting water cascading down on them through the tree leaves. Harry chuckled dryly, then turned his head.

I snapped my head down instantly, castigating myself for even _looking_ while also praying he didn't see me. I stayed hunched over- _concealed_ -for a few seconds, then -mustering my courage- lifted my head a little to see if he was still looking.

He wasn't.

I exhaled - relieved.

I adjusted myself on the seat so I wouldn't be as visible to them... but so I could still sneak glances. I felt anxious about Styles' close proximity, and I wanted to be aware of his actions at least for the duration of the time I'd be stuck in this car.

There was some distant dry-heaving, and I watched as Harry's friend doubled-over and released smothered vomitting sounds. Harry just stood staring impassively at his sick-drunk friend, then hoisted his chin to scan the area assiduously, then for a moment, his attention shot right through the car window. Expression finally painted his face as he flashed his signature Harry Styles smug smirk, clipping it with a coquettish wink.

He just winked at me.

My head jerked away so fast, I nearly experienced whiplash. _Okay, okay, he knows I'm here_ , I thought, stringed with self-upbraiding. My heart stung with panic as it picked up a hasty pace, resounding in my ears and pulsating in my throat.

Through the panic arrived a wave of shame - shame for being _scared_. And I can't count the number of times I have been genuinely terrified of Harry Styles, but it was not something I liked to be known. I tried to convinced myself that I was safe in this car, and that Harry couldn't do anything to me without being somehow caught or seen doing so. The times have changed for omegas, and any alpha-to-omega harrassment seen was strictly prohibited - _especially_ on school grounds.

So, I sucked in my bravery, turned back to face Harry, and did something that (at the back of my mind) I knew I'd regret later.

I gave him the middle finger.

There was an instantaneous shift in Harry's expression. His smirk was wiped clean off his face and his complacent glint vanished as if it were never there to begin with, both replaced with a stony and cold expression as he _stared_ at me. That was it - he just _stared_ , and it was like a fragment to something horrifying. The only perceivable emotion would probably be disapproval - just plain, bitter disapproval. It resembled the typical alpha reaction to something that he/she did not appreciate from his/her omega.

I was getting the scolding, you're-about-to-be-punished glare. Great.

Then, all of a sudden, it changed. In a slow, deft lift, the corner of Harry's lips seized upward, revealing his teeth. He was... smirking at me - again. He must've found something funny, though I feared what it could've been.

I nearly leapt out of my skin when the door opened and Zayn appeared back in the front seat, breathing out a smoke-smelling exhale.

Zayn turned to look at me, brows raised. "You look..." Then, his brows pressed together, " _worse_." His face scrunched with confusion. "Louis, are you getting _sick_ or something?"

"No," I muttered, "why do you ask?"

"Because you look pale as shit," he said, mazed. "Goddamn, Louis. What _happened?_ Like, are you feeling sick or anything?"

"No," I answered, still staring past Zayn at Harry.

Zayn must've caught onto the line of my gaze and followed it, seeing Harry and his still-puking friend, and renounced a cross look at me. "Did _he_ do something to you?- because if he did, I'll kick his ass- "

"No, Zayn, it's- !" I groaned. "Just... I just want to get back to the dorm."

Zayn didn't say anything. Instead, he just punched in his keys in and started the car. It purred to life, and was very smooth as Zayn pulled away from the house. Zayn's one fist was tight on the steering wheel as he drove, making his frustration known. I shrunk back into my seat, surreptitiously huddling closer into the blanket.

"Louis," Zayn said firmly, "just for the record, I don't like secrets."

_Trust me - I don't either. I just happen to harbour the worst one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? <3
> 
> Okay, so for the next whole week, I'm gonna be away, so that means no more updates. The reason why I can't update is because where I'll be going there'll be no Wi-fi (my grandpa despises technology), so, yeah. Also, that means I won't be able to respond to comments or messages. Sorry. BUT I will be writing while I'm there ;)
> 
> You guys have been GREAT!! Thank-you so much for the support! :D
> 
> Oh, and here's something to think about from this chapter: what was Harry thinking? I hate to spoil, but something WILL happen to Louis - I'm just not gonna say what >:)


	7. нυnтed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam shows Louis something really cool at five-bloody-'o'clock in the morning while Louis spends the rest of the day fearing an encounter with his pissed-off (and sexually frustrated) childhood nemesis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been a week since the last update, so that's not too bad, right? I really liked writing this chapter! I hope it's just as interesting reading as it was writing :)
> 
> The gif at the beginning shows a werewolf from the movie, "Van Helsing." This is what the type of creatures I introduce in this chapter look like. In my opinion, "Van Helsing" had the best werewolves (sorry Twlight).

 

"Liam, if you could please just tell me what's going on- "

"Shush!" Liam hissed as he strapped on his leather boots.

It was October now and Mother Nature seemed to know about it. It had become chillier outside, making the necessities for jackets and clothing coverage more significant. I had noticed the nippy shift in the air a few days ago on my stroll to work, so I was fortunate enough to buy a coat before the real issue of the warning entailed. The only problem I was facing with Liam urging me out of bed to go _"check out something cool!"_ was the fact that it was five-bloody-'o'clock in the bloody _morning!_ He only awoke _me_ , and though I tried to ask why Niall couldn't come, I figured it was best for everyone's sake that Niall _stayed_ asleep.

"But I _need_ information here," I complained, "or else I'm gonna go _insane!_ And you don't want me to go insane, do you, Liam?" I gave him the sassy eye as I slipped on my own fluffy-rimmed boots.

"No, I don't, Louis," he replied quietly (remember: can't awake little Niall), "but I can't resist the thrill of a surprise!" He grinned waggishly, and it was probably one of the few times I'd ever seen Liam smile since we first met in the dorm.

Then I frowned. "Surprise...," I muttered darkly, pictures of the Choosing Ceremony and Harry Styles popping in my mind like persistent mosquitos, "I just _love_ surprises."

Liam eased on his jacket. "Louis, can you just try _not_ to be bitter and sarcastic this one time? I know it's the morning and the time when everyone's cranky, but this surprise I'm about to show you is supposed to be something... _exciting!_ And with all the school stress lately, I thought maybe you'd enjoy a little excitement."

Ugh. I didn't think it was physically possible you could be cross with someone after an explanation like that.

" _Fine_ ," I sighed just as I finished slinging on my coat, "lead the way, beta."

 

 

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We were out on the campus within five minutes of leaving the dorm. My boots crunched on the frosty grass as I trailed behind the beta, wondering God-knows-where he was taking me. Honestly, what was it so _important?_  And why had it been so important as to yank me out of bed so early in the morning?

I halted when Liam crossed through the forest - the _forbidden_ part of the campus. The forest surrounded the entire area, and if one travelled far enough, he/she would encounter a _human_. I wasn't so much scared about the idea of trespassing, but the fact that _Liam_ -the goody-two-shoes- slipped right into the forest unfazed. Okay, something was definitely going on.

"Louis?" Liam said, twisting around once he'd realized I was no longer following, "what are you doing? It's this way!"

"Who are you and what have you done with Liam?"

He chuckled. "I know, I know... I'm breaking the rules, but trust me when I say it's _worth it_. I would not be rebelling if this wasn't worth it."

"I don't know... this new you is making me uncomfortable."

He sighed. "I haven't changed, Louis." He reached out an inviting hand. "Now, come on - before someone sees!"

Ugh.

I looked over my shoulder, scanning the area for a second before entering the forest.

Series after series of trees passed us as we ran forward. I occasionally staggered over an embankment in my haste, but kept pace with Liam regardless. Boy, this beta was _fast,_  and for someone who spent ninety percent of his day (when he wasn't in class) in the dorm studying, it arrived to me as quite a shock. Betas were biologically faster than omegas because they carried more of the alpha hormone in their system than us, but still: betas needed to work to obtain their strength whereas alphas were automatically gifted. It wasn't fair, but it was nature, so I just huffed and let it be.

It was when I started hearing the strange sounds of distant growling and howling did I become terrifyingly curious. Liam and I padded along the forest floor for only a few more minutes when the vicious, animalistic noises intensified drastically. The parlous snarls thundered through the air and even vibrated the ground a little. Other noises like clinking chains and incessant banging on metal bars followed not far behind, and my inquiry (and fear) nearly burst.

"Louis."

I was abruptly torn down to my knees behind a bush. Liam sat crouched on the balls of his feet as he peered over the thorns of the bush. He remained vigilant for a few seconds, then motioned for me to look, too. Dreadful, I peeked over the bush anyway. Immediately, I was greeted with the sight of _Werewolves_ in elephant-sized cages - perfect for their size, of course.

I gasped. I didn't need a textbook to be able to recognie _these_ creatures. They were unlike any other Wolf species; huge, animalistic, and unforgiving. They were the only species incapable to turning back to human.

Fear ran cold and quick through my body. I watched, huddling behind the bush's protection, as Shape-shifters (must be; no humans were allowed near here; they only roved ten more kilometres away) tried to restrain the beastly creatures. One -black, hairy, and mean- was out of its cage, and looked to be restrained pretty hard with Snare Poles swathed around its thick neck, biceps, wrists, thighs, ankles... just anywhere on the body pretty much. He didn't look very pleased (who was I kidding - non of them were happy about being controlled), and wrestled against the objects strenuously.

The black one suddenly let out a grisly screech at one of the Shape-Shifters, drool manumitting as it tucked its gums back and widened its jaw, revealing a perfect set of fatal incisors. He growled mightily and threw its arm, hurtling one of the Shape-Shifters through the air and, somewhere in the distance, a thud sounded his harsh landing.

"What's happening?" I asked desperately.

"Mónimos Werewolves," I heard Liam say, "they're part of the First Task."

"The First- wait, do you mean...?"

"Yes," the beta said, "I mean the first part in the _Wolf Games_."

I stared out to the Werewolves, gawking in maze and terror, then I looked to Liam. "How many are there do you reckon?"

Liam hummed. "I don't know... there looks to be some cages behind those cages..." His eyes fixed to me. "I'd say there's only three. It only makes sense, right? I mean, there's three Warriors. Obviously there's going to be one for each, and to say there'd be more would only be a fool's guess. One Mónimos is all an alpha can handle - regardless of strength."

Mónimos Werewolves... the "Mónimos" part means "Permanent" in Greek. If a human were to ever be bitten by one (or killed - as long as the Werewolf's saliva met their bloodstream), the human would wake up transforming into one and would stay that way forever. If Shape-Shifters or any other Supernatural species were to be bit, we'd die inevitably. One cannot be two things at once. The body can only take so much, even if one is Supernatural.

Mónimos is the only species that can infect others; every other species has to be passed down through genes. The only reason Mónimos still exist is for science. They're experimented on because they've been deemed of no value other than for sickness and desolation - and also apparently for events like the Wolf Games.

"Aren't those guys worried about being infected?" I asked, referring to the Shape-Shifters trying to restrain the Mónimos.

"No," Liam answered, "they've most likely already removed the venom from the Mónimos' mouth glands. The Board of Education forbids any kind of fatal infections from entering the Games, so if Mónimos were to ever take part in the Games, they'd obviously have to be de-venomized."

A brown Mónimos barked irefully at nothing, snapping its jaw on the cages bars and chewing harshly. Apparently when one becomes a Mónimos Werewolf, his/her brain becomes a disease, so they're basically like extremely barbaric zombies. Eventually they do die from the venomous disease, though in the meantime they eat, murder, then eat some more, and maybe desolate a village while they're at it. They don't _think_ ; they're brain doesn't compute thoughts - just savage instincts.

"What the heck do you think is gonna happen to these creatures?" I asked once again. It felt like I was suffering from extreme curiosity, and I just wanted to know more and more.

"I don't know," Liam answered - unsatisfyingly, "but whatever it is, those so-called Warriors are in from a _real_ thrill ride. What a lovely way to start off the Games, don't you think so, Lou?"

"Yeah, _what_ a ride," I concurred as I ducked further behind the bush.

 

 

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I found Luke in the library, and it had been purely out of coincidence. I had been tracing the hallways, searching for Mrs. Teasdale's room (my Magical Creatures teacher) when I suddenly noticed Harry Styles herding towards me. I panicked for a moment, but fortunately he hadn't known I was there due to the distraction of his many omega puppets tittering around him, and so I took the opportunity to sneak into the closest open door and hide, which was the library.

I'd scurried to the back when I noticed Luke hunched over a book at a wooden table, looking very engrossed. I didn't like the idea of interrupting him, so I thought maybe just sitting beside would be innocent, but then he said, "What're you hiding from, Louis?"

My face burned as I arched over the table, placing my cheek on the surface as I faced Luke. "Hiding? I'm not hiding."

Luke then looked at me, unmoved and eyebrow-curious. "You _aren't?_ "

"Erm..." I raked a hand through my hair guiltily, "no... I am hiding actually."

"Ah." Luke placed his book open and page-facing-down on the table. "Well, who're you hiding from then - if it's not too personal to ask."

"No," I mumbled, "it's fine."

"Who is it then?"

"Er..." I fidgetted. "Actually, perhaps it _is_ best if I didn't say."

"Oh, okay," Luke said, "I understand." There was a brief, deliberate silence. "Could you at least tell me _why_ you're hiding?"

 _You're a curious nut, aren't you?_ "I guess it's because... I'm scared."

Luke eyes widened owlishly. "Scared? Like, are you afraid someone's gonna beat you up?"

 _In a way..._ "No," I half-lied, "it's not that."

"Is it a teacher whom you haven't handed in a late assignment to?"

I snickered. "No, it's a student." _Okay, that's all I'm gonna give away._

"Is it a boy or girl?"

 _Okay, I can let that one slide_. "Boy."

"Alpha, beta, or omega?"

 _Er... Okay, we're getting deeper. I think that's too much information_. "I, uh... I don't think I should say."

"What's the harm, Louis? I wont tell anyone... unless it's serious."

 _Oh, it's serious (serious to me) - that's why I'm not telling you_. "I just..."

"Did he tell you not to tell no one?"

 _Yes, he did... once_. "Okay, I have to stop, Luke."

There was a pause that lasted five seconds. It was slow, and I could sense the frustrated debating writhing in Luke's expression. Fortunately, he didn't stretch the worrying subject.

"Okay, Louis... I can see your discomfort... I'll stop. _But_ , you know, if someone really is hurting you- "

"I'll tell you." I smiled at him, lifting my head from the table. The lie had slithered right past my teeth, settling a foul, self-disgusted feeling my in gut that strangled the steady-growing trust Luke and I had been building.

Luke huffed, pursing his lips. "Okay." He smiled at me. "I can live with that."

"I should probably be going now," I told him as I stood from the chair. _Harry should be gone by now._

"Alright," Luke said, "see you." He turned back to his book and continued reading.

I looked both ways in the hallway, checking to see if he was anywhere near. Then, with unease, I stepped onto the journey back to the dormroom, unconcerned about asking Mrs. Teasdale questions about the Mónimos Werewolf anymore - at least until I could erase the apprehension of Styles lurking in these hallways away from my mind.

Huh. As if that was gonna happen any time soon...

 

 

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I somehow saw Harry Styles twice that day, though I wasn't about to willingly say "Hello" to him, especially after what transpired last night. There was a mysterious glint in his eyes last night, and every time the same exact picture of his face mirrored in my head, my anxiety webbed spikily through my body. I didn't get a very pleasant feeling about Styles at the moment (when did I ever not?), so for now, I was back on "Avoidance Mode."

The second time I saw him he wasn't with his friends or omegas. I was actually in the locker room after Gym class, tidying up my locker. I'd been the last one to leave, though I blamed it bitterly on the fact that the teacher was an absolute _twat_ and mistook my personality for "attitude" and forced me to run extra laps while everyone else cleaned up and got ready to leave. I grumbled the entire time I was in the shower, quietly loathing that sorry excuse of a Gym teacher, but when I stepped out, it hadn't been the emptiness of the locker room that silenced me, but the voice of my nemesis.

I hastily scampered back into the shower area and flattened my back against the wall, my heart already aggressively thudding in my ribcage. He was _here_... oh God, why was he _here?_ I wasn't wearing any _clothes!_ What if he _saw_ me?! Oh God...

".... don't mind locking the stalls for me, do you, Harry?" I heard someone ask. My Gym teacher - must be. I recognized that irritating voice anywhere.

"No, sir. It's fine." And there was that cherry, fake voice of his. He always pulled that on teachers, and the teachers _always_ fell for it.

"Oh, thank-you, Harry! That means a lot. Neugdae's lucky to have you representing them."

"Thank-you, sir."

"I still think someone's cleaning up in there. Just make sure he's done before you lock this door." There's a patted thud, followed by a hollow, metal echo. "I'd get in huge trouble if one of my students got locked in here over night... regardless of _how_ bad a student he is."

Great. He knew it was me. _You're a Jackass too, Mr. Dundee_.

"Alright. I won't forget, sir."

"You're a good kid, Harry."

I assume that's when he left because I never heard Mr. Dundee's shitty voice again; however, if I did have the choice between having him or Styles in here with me- _alone_ -, I'd go with Mr. Dundee in a _heartbeat_.

Frightened, I managed to pick up on all the tiny things Harry did. I listened to his shoes thumping across the puddled floor, making a tiny splash with every step. The air just seemed to thicken, and all my senses were on high alert.

With every pause and step Harry performed, I could hear the distant (and annoying) reverberations of my own heart in my ears. One wrong move and we'd be repeating history. I didn't know what Harry was doing exactly, whether he was teasing me or simply just taking a stroll through the locker room. There was also the possibility that he was scenting the room since our class consisted _only_ of omegas, and it was only omegas who ever winded in and out through here, though apparently Harry had been an exception.

I first heard Harry getting close (which pulsated right through my body), but then he souped around the corner, and his steps suddenly became more and more distant. Risking it, I rolled my head around the wall of the shower entrance and saw Harry's back. My heart lurched in my throat at the sight, but I kept staring- _watching_ -to see if he would walk into the other room.

He did.

Feeling as though my life was on the line, I hurried (vigilantly quietly) over to my locker. With shaky fingers, I undid my lock, surreptitiously snapping it off and prying open the door. I bit my lip as I checked over my shoulder. Not there. I turned back to my open locker and quickly gathered my strewn clothes (curse my laziness for just throwing my clothes in the locker and not actually putting it in the bag itself) into my arms. I snatched my bag, slung it over my shoulder, shut the metal door and reattached the lock.

I looked back over my shoulder and saw a familiar shadow licking up the wall. My feet quickly carried me around the line of lockers and into the next area of lockers, safely shrouded by the metal wall.

 _Safe_... huh, who was I kidding? I hadn't even been _careful_ in my footsteps when I hid for cover just now; when in a silence like this, _every_ footfall was like the beat of a drum - a vigorous beat, along with a splash that bloody echoed.

 _Shitshitshit - he could've_ heard _that_ , I thought dreadfully as I nawed on my thumb nail. I stopped completely and listened for footsteps. _Splop.... splop.... splop...._ Then he just _stopped_.

I begged my heart to just _shut-up_ , but to no avail; as long as Styles was here, my near-death experiences with heart-attacks would never cease.

I wondered why he had stopped. Regardless though, I'd begun dressing myself. I slipped my shirt on, then boxers, and by the time I reached for my jogging pants, Harry's footsteps inaugurated again. I froze instinctively, listening like a still deer, then slid up the loose grey pants when I'd figured Harry had ambled into the shower where I just was. Well, _thank shit_ I didn't go back in _there_.

I didn't want to risk sitting on the loose-strew bench and cause squaking noises, so I fit my socks and shoes on while standing up flamingo-style. After that was when Harry's suspenseful steps started _again_.

_Splop... splop... splop..._

I shoved my dirty clothes into my satchel and gripped the strap tight where it hung over my shoulder. I was about to sneak towards the exit, but then I heard Harry impossibly close to the edge of the line of lockers. My chest tightened as my eyes scurried around for a hiding spot. I decided for the open, empty locker and glided right in, stealthly shutting it then and holding it closed. I watched through the lined gaps in the locker door what was occuring outside.

Harry suddenly appeared not a second later, and I was almost convinced that he _saw me_ run into the locker. That was when my panic _really_ accelerated.

I clamped my mouth shut and concentrated on restraining the energy on my breathing. I didn't want to be _too_ loud, especially since an alpha like Harry had more sensitive hearing than I do. I waited, straining with anxiety as I watched -just watched- Harry Styles rove around, observing the lockers with his back to me. He turned, facing sideways to me, and an immense shudder rolled through me at the sight of the one side of his face. He looked impassive in his monotonous work - just looking at the lockers as if he were at a museum, while casually having his hands gripped prefessionally behind his back.

Then he turned to face me.

Only, he didn't actually face _me_. He turned around and headed back towards the edge of the lockers, walking just so calmly and slowly as if he had all day to do so.

I swallowed, and I nearly gagged at the unexpected thickness of my throat. Waitig until Harry was at a comfortable distance away, I eased open the rusty door and tip-toed over to the exit, evading the puddles. I hesitated before the edge of the lockers and jerked my head to the side where Harry walked off to. Not there. An elated feeling skipped inside, sommersaulting my belly when I turned back and saw the entrance. I hurried over, and when I was finally outside, I made a run for it, mentally laughing with relief at the very, _very_ close call.

 

 

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Later that day while I was walking back to the dormroom from my last class, I felt a stitich of worry overwhelm me. I wasn't sure _where_ the random anxiety had sparked from, but I ended up choosing to ignore my instincts' call for fleeing and continued on my casual stroll.

I made a quick trip to the washroom, and quickly realized it was empty. The College was like graveyard at this time. There weren't many classes this late at night, so that meant most people had already bunked in their dormrooms and/or had fallen asleep by now. I yawned as I washed my hands. _Yeah_ , a good night's sleep didn't seem like a bad idea right now.

The hallways were empty too, and that was when the same dreadful feeling struck me again. I hesitated before continuing down the halls and towards the omega dormitory, feeling a little more suspicious about this random dread burning a hole in the fear zone of my mind. I observed each and every crammy of the area more closely and cautiously, peering over the corners to see if anyone was there, and who it was. Still, the sticky feeling that someone was close by never unhooked from my conscience.

I never knew it was _Harry Styles_ who was ghosting behind me.

The gasp was literally squeezed out of me when a pair of hands suddenly forced me into a dark, small room - a janitor's closet from the looks of it. I reacted quickly, spinning around and throwing myself at the closing door. I grunted when the same hands forbid me. I fought, bucking and kicking, but my efforts were futile. I was shoved roughly back into the darkness of the room, and the peeking light the hallway was suddenly sealed away, leaving only the ebony scenery.

There was a click and light immediately replenished the small boxed-in area. I nearly tripped over my own two feet when I saw _him_ again for the _third_ time that day, only he was staring _right at me_ \- his attention affixed _right on me_.

His face was stony, yet his eyes were dark - the same look he gave me last night. Right away, I tried to run, though I hadn't actually considered where I'd _go_ with Harry guarding the door (and no doubt probably locked it) and with the tiny amount of moving space available where tools and shelves had not touched it. Harry inevitably grabbed me again, shuddering a squeak out of me, and plopped me back in the previous spot. I backed away from him, my shallow breathes fleeting, until my back abruptly touched the spines of shelves. I froze, unable to go anywhere. The truth that I was indeed trapped delivered a new fear that settled in my bones and ate away at my hope - any hope I had left.

Doomed I was, and I wasn't just about to know how to escape _this_ one.

Harry loomed over me with that unchanging stare - that unimpressed, you're-in-trouble stare. For a second, I was taken back to last night when I'd rebelled against my omega instincts and gave an alpha the middle finger -the ultimate disrespect (besides spitting)- and I felt that courageous part of me shrink away with the dread of Harry's imminent move. Except he just.... dragged the back of his fingers down my cheek ever-so-gently... and maliciously. I flinched and shut my eyes tightly - preparing. Harry had never hit me before, yet there was always that fear that ingered stickily in the back of my mind. Considering how to kissed me (quite forcefully) just a week ago, I knew Harry was unpredictable.

"You know something, Louis," Harry said, a rumbling purr in his chest, "we haven't spoken since that marvelous trip to the Greenhouse." _I try not to think about it_. "And it's rather disappointing; I've gotten praise from every omega in this bloody school... except you."

His mouth and nose feathered over my hair, not doing anything in particular except just sitting there enjoying the position. I shivered, though I gritted my teeth, feeling my ire sither slightly, cracking through the wall of my unwanted submission.

"When an alpha does something spectacular," he continued, "his omega is supposed to _congratulate_ him." He hummed. "Now, obviously you're not _my_ omega, Louis, but I just thought I'd do something nice for your... _future_ alpha-" There was an unmissable growl low in his throat, "-by teaching you a lesson on how the alpha _must be praised_."

 _Yeah, by petting their ego_ , I thought snidely.

I clenched my hands into a fist, causing my omega to cry; however, this time, I refused to allow myself to be roped down and controlled by submission. I really meant it this time.

"So," Harry purred, gently rubbing the rough pad of his thumb along my jaw, "in that, I'm not going to allow you to choose how _you're_ going to deliver the praise; you lost that chance when you refused to see me in the days I so generously gave you. You're going to do what _I'm_ gonna tell you, and you're going to do it _now_."

His fingers then traced lightly over my lips, tickling them - exactly what he did last time. My body tightened in dreadful anticipation. I knew what he was about to do -he'd done it not even a week ago- and so I wasn't in the slightest surprised when Harry leaned closer, his lips floating over the shell of my ear, and whispered, _"I want you to kiss me."_

 _No, nononono_. I wasn't going to do - not _willingly!_ Last time, Harry had kissed _me_ (which was pure humiliation), but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of willingly delivering the gesture to _him_.

I felt my omega urge and rip vigorously on the reign of my mind, yearning to gain control, but I nailed myself down, refusing to submit, even to my own instincts. I would not allow myself to be humilitated again for the thousandth time. It was in moments like these where I wondered how people could possibly live their life as an omega fully-satisfied. By being an omega, one was tied down to one thing and one thing only: complete and utter _submission_. Any glimmer of defiance was frowned upon by society - _especially_ from alphas. It had been said over and over again how we -as omegas- belonged at the _bottom_ of the rankings.

I hated it; it was as if we were labelled as nothing other than property. Other than that, I had nothing else against being an omega. We never got the same rights as alphas (maybe betas), and in some cases, we were even paid less simply for being an omega. It was all simply just a bunch of prejudiced alphas who desired power and for the top spot to remain theirs, and apparently to do that, they had to push everyone else below them.

I would _not_ be labelled by Harry Styles anymore, so in this moment, I swallowed my fear and collected my bravery, and as a result, I fought through the crack of my omega's wall and muttered a small, yet clear, _"No."_

Harry ripped away from me quickly; so quick, he could've tore off his head from the acceleration. He hadn't stepped back or shifted; he just stood above me, eyes burning on my head. Then, gathering myself again, I looked up into his eyes, mentally prancing at the feeling of my confidence returning. I'd backed my omega away into the corner of my mind and become my own person - one that I was sure Harry did not appreciate. Only I didn't feel guilty; I actually _soaked up_ the bemused reaction with gratification and a cheery pride.

History seemed to repeat itself then. Harry's face started off as flat and unimpressed, then shifted to that familiar smirk, as if he found my courage _amusing_. The cherry on top of all this was the smal snicker that muffled at his lips. Still, I refused to submit.

"Little Louis," he mused, smiling now, "being his little challenging-self as always." He pressed his thumb on my chin, just leaving it there... then his smile dropped, though the humour in his eyes remained. "An _omega_... standing up to an _alpha_." He sighed. "Louis, don't you _see?_ " He suddenly gripped my jaw tightly, the humour dissipating and replaced with aggravated seriousness. "You _can't_ win."

I growled, trying to squirm away when Harry ducked his head, lips driving right towards my neck and holding me tightly in place: neck bent and exposed. His palm flattened and his fingers curled around the spot under my ear, just holding me there securely while his other hand gripped my shoulder, additionally pushing the fabric of my shirt aside in the process.

"No -!" I tried to protest, but it too late; Harry's teeth had made an appearance on the exposed skin, immediately going to naw and mark me. _A hickey?!_ I realized, struggling even more intensely now. My omega tried to force me to just drop it and submit, but I fumed and simply fought harder. It was useless -I know- yet it was my mission to prove to Harry that I was not this _doll_ that he could just play with whenever he wanted to.

... Unfortunately, even as I wrestled with spirit, fighting tooth and nail, it was still -and always would be- a dead match. Harry was in fact an alpha - powerful, mighty, and all-worthy. I, on the other hand, was an omega - the complete opposite. I stood no chance against him, no matter how much I rebelled. And it's not because I'd realized this afterwards (after I calmed down a bit), but that it's a scientific fact.

Omegas did not possess the proper hormones for the supernatural strength alphas had. Omegas, by nature, were designed solely for bearing pups and feeding them; the alpha body was designed to protect its offspring and mate, and to provide for the family. The science of the mates' roles may not have fully applied to humans -for which the roles were switching constantly from what I hear- but for us Shape-Shifters, that rule was _obstinate_. It would _never_ change, no matter how much omegas took a stand. Alphas were simply just incapable of bowing down to their 'underlings.'

My neck stung when Harry pulled away. He'd licked it a few times as if for resassurance, then lifted his head and stood over me again, looking down with pride oozing out his smug expression. I tried to glare at him, but my face felt like it'd been glued in one spot; my omega had taken government over my mind again. My eyes prickled hotly, and my face seethed with shame. I'd given in again...

"Just in case that twat Aiden thinks about looking at you again," Harry said smugly, then his face turned serious for a moment as he told me, "Do _not_ cover this. If I see you so much as wearing a scarf, I'll shove you right back in here and give you _three more_."

I gulped nervously.

"Also, I thought it could be a little something to remember me by," he whispered huskily in my ear, seductively kitten-licking it before pulling away fully and stepping away from me. He turned off the closet light and opened the door, gesturing me through with an infamous smirk.

With shaky legs, I walked out the janitor's closet, squinting at the stinging blare of the bright ceiling lights. Still no one in the hallways. I jumped when Harry's arms snaked around my waist.

"Till next time, sweets. I very much enjoyed our little _session_ here." He then pulled away and strolled off with a swagger.

I hiccuped, slipping on my coat, then when I got outside, I finally cried.

 

 

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I kept crying even when I'd approached the dormroom. I stopped before the door and fished out my keys, jamming it into the lock after a few misses due to my quivering hands and walked in as a sobbing mess.

I closed the door behind me, but I didn't really feel in the right mood for walking or simply doing _anything_ , so I slide down the door, slouching lethargically, and tucked my knees up, hugging my legs, and continued crying into the wedge of my kneecaps. I didn't exactly care at the moment; everything was just a broken misery in my eyes. That's what Harry Styles' special art was... that's what he _enjoyed_ to do; he even _said it_ before he left.

"Wha.... Lou..?"

I continued crying.

A yawn. "'S it you?"

My sobbing was merciless.

"Aye, Lou... 'r you cryin'?"

I sniffled messily into my elbow. There was shuffling, but I didn't actually comprehend it. There was a slight squeaking as the bed's springs bent, most likely from someone sliding off, then there were hesitant, muted footfalls approaching me. I heed it nothing; I hadn't even _realized_ that Niall was in the room. My head swamped with dark flashes of Harry Styles, and that was it.

"Lou...?" The voice was louder now and very delicate.

It was when a pair of hands cupped on each of my knees when I stopped crying and looked up at the familiar blond-haired omega staring doe-eyed down on me while wearing a dark-green robe and bunny slippers. Immediately after I stopped crying -just for a split second- did I erupt with a new fresh sets of salty tears. I fell back into the crook of my knees and bawled. Just seeing the concern on someone's face got me - that was all it took. And even though Niall didn't look necessarily sad or worried, the warmth of a friend nearby hit me in my core.

"Aw, Lou." His fluffy sleeves wreathed around me. "Tough night, ah?"

I cried even harder. Niall shuffled closer to me, holding me now against his chest, my head balanced in the crook of his neck. He started to hum soft and lowly, pressing his mouth to my mat of hair and just staying there, singing a muffled song behind his lips. I hadn't quite recognized the song, but it was starting to sound like "Hush Little Baby."

Of course, Niall. Of course.

We stayed there -glued together- for nearly five minutes (though it felt like ten). Then, when Niall must've assumed I was okay to stand, he led me to my feet and escorted me to our bed, plopping me down beside him while whispering sweet nothings. Niall unwound his robe and cloaked the one wing of his robe around me, tugging me against his side and bundling me along with him inside the kitten-soft robe.

Niall pressed his lips against my forehead. "S'okay, Lou. I got you." He invited me closer by hugging his arms around me, encasing me. "Yer gonna be fine, yeah? New day tumerrow."

I sniffled mercilessly, but somehow found solace in Niall's love and care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if some of the writing is crappy and overused; I tend to rush the chapters sometimes :/
> 
> So... WHAT'D YOU THINK??!!! Tell me - please!? I'd love to know your honest thoughts! What'd you think of the new werewolves? I'm SO excited to write about them! Oh- and guess what? (SPOILER) The new chapter is going to be the start of the FIRST TASK!! Yesyes?!
> 
> Okay, okay... Imma go have a bath right now and calm down... then have a brownie and continue writing the next chapter.
> 
> ... Honestly though, what'd you think? Write to me in the comments below, kay? I wil be waiting... heh heh heh :D
> 
> P.S. I'm thinking about writing a one-shot with Louis and Harry in it (duh). It'll be just a casual, fluffy Omega/Alpha short (long) story. If you're interested and up to read it, I'd love to hear from you.


	8. тнe ғιrѕт тaѕĸ (parт one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Task has finally begun, and there are some things that will never be forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like early? I know I was supposed to post on Saturday, but I didn't think you guys would mind an early update, yeah?
> 
> I've been staying at my aunt's for the past week, and recently I was introduced to the "Step Up" series and HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THINGS GOOD IN THIS WORLD, I have become OBSESSED, okay?! That is aside Larry, of course. It's just... I'm like a fish that's just been tackled; I'm hooked! And if you haven't seen them, you gotta watch them!

 

"They're already starting The First Task?" I asked, a little bewildered. Did I not just see the ghastly subjects they're using for this event yesterday? Had it seriously only taken the school a _day_ to prepare for the first event? They must've really wanted to inaugurate these Games as soon as possible.

"Yeh!" Niall chirped from where he walked beside me, a feverish skip in his step.

I'd never seen someone so riled up and enlivened as Niall was this morning. He'd literally shook me awake as he pranced up and down on the bed, serenading how _"me friend had jus' sent me a text sayin' tat Te First Task 's startin' today!"_ So, basically, Liam (I had to jiggle him awake; I didn't think it was nice that Niall was excluding him) and I had dizzily struggled into our clothes at six in the _freaking_ morning (how long would The First Task be exactly?) and ventured with a bubbly Niall and a few others who'd also emerged out of their dormrooms out onto the Campus.

The grass was long with morning dewdrops, and scraped wetly on my exposed ankles. I was in the middle between Niall and Liam (who apparently studied while he walked...?). Liam had been the generous one and packed some snacks (and books) into his satchel for us later on. I'd never been to where we were heading before (it was off limits), so this would be interesting.

"Apparently they're holding the The First Task in a small forest," Liam suddenly said, his glasses glaring under the pale-yellow sunlight. "That's where the _Warriors_ will be, anyway. We'll be in the bleaches surrounding the forest where there'll be a ceiling cage above the forest where we'll watch them."

"Ooh!" Niall purred, "won' tat be interestin'!" Then -in a moment of realization- he quickly fixed his face and scowled at the beta, clearing his throat. "I mean, in a way where I won' be able te see yer ugly face, Liam."

Liam chuckled, but he never stirred from his focused eyes. He continued, ignoring Niall's input. "The Warriors will be put individually into the cage with... their _challenge_ , and will have to achieve their goal under a matter of minutes or else they won't receive the hint for their next Task."

"Wait - _hint?_ " I inquired.

"Yeah," Liam said, appearing just as surprised as I was, "apparently the only goal is to obtain something. There'll be no competition in The First Task."

I blinked, scrutinizing the book between Liam's fingers. "What are you reading?"

"Oh." Liam flashed the cover of the book to me. "It's just a manual of the College's areas - _and_ special events."

I beamed. "So, like, it says everything in regards to the Wolf Games?" Finally - some _answers!_

"Er, not really," Liam answered lowly. "The book is spelled, so some of the pages are blank until a certain numbers of days pass. I guess it's just a way for the school to assure that there'll be no spoilers. They also change up the Tasks every year, so asking someone who attended here ten years ago would be futile."

"Oh," I drawled - disappointed.

"Tat's cheap!" Niall suddenly objected. "Why would ye go and buy a book tat only tells ye _some_ stuff - stuff ye can get from oters who got te same book?"

"So that I don't have to _ask_ other people," Liam said, sharply miffed. He made it seem like he just had to repeat something for the tenth time to someone who was barely listening. This was the often case when talking to Niall.

"It just seems like a waste 'o' money," Niall muttered.

"Actually, it was free," Liam deflected.

"'Like-wise. Te teachers probably gave it to ye fer free!"

"No, they didn't. It was free to everyone."

"'Course you would kno', ye cu- !"

"OKAY!" I announced, shooting my hands up to silence them, "can we _please_ just try to hold back the incessant arguing for _one day_. Just long enough for us -as three _loving_ friends- to enjoy the first part in this once-in-a-lifetime event we're about to see together - as _friends?_ \- who're _nice_ to each other?"

I stopped all of us at once and waited, allowing my suggestion to sink in for a moment. Niall and Liam's hatred magnified in the surrounding air, cutting through the denseness and seething. Niall raged, his eyes lasering straight across to his countering (and taller) Second Gender. Liam's face was nothing more than a scornful mask - glare unforgiving, just like the omega's.

"Shake on it," I clarified.

Niall's peachy face glowered even tighter, his eyes narrowing. " _Fine_ ," he growled, "but under one rule." He smirked maliciously. "Te first Wolf te break has'te go a full day in a hair-style of te oter's choosin'."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever gets you two to stop _arguing_ is okay with me."

Liam nodded solemnly, yet with a challenging sense. "Okay," he agreed, reaching out to shake Niall's hand.

The omega accepted with a smartass grin, and I was finally able to breathe for once without the constant, retricting worry of my roommates' daily quarrels. In fact, I was actually comfortable with the promised punishment weighing over if the deal was broken; neither Liam nor Niall had the willingness to be humiliated like that, and I'm sure they both knew that if someone _did_ win -whoever it would be- would have a very devious plan in mind for the other's full-day hair demolition.

"So," I said in hopes of swapping the steeling silence for something a little more casual and friendly, "do either of you know what's gonna be happening?"

"No," Liam answered, then gave me a eloquent stare, "though I think I have an idea."

I smiled slightly - nervously.

"Uhm, and I hate to sound rude, Louis, but I have to ask," Liam said, "why're you wearing a scarf?"

I glanced down at the russet wool swathing my neck. "Oh, _this?_ " I asked, threading the one end between my fingers assiduously. "It's just... cozy, I guess."

"It's just pretty warm out right now - like, almost twenty," Liam implied. "Are you _sure_ you're not gonna being sweating?"

" _Oi!_ " Niall suddenly objected, "leave te poor lad alone! If he _wants_ te wear a scarf, he can _wear_ a scarf."

We both stared at the omega.

Then, suddenly sheepish, Niall said, "Er, I mean... I respect yer opinion, Liam, but I just don't agree wit it. I think if Lou wanted to wear sometin, he shouldn't have te be botered fer it." His snide glare at the beta was unmissable, and demonstrated the thoughts in his head that this was gonna be harder than he thought it'd be.

Liam sighed. "I'll let it slip," he said, then turned to me. "He's right. I'm sorry, Louis."

"It's fine," I muttered, apprehensively fiddling with the scarf.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

It seemed like the entire school knew about the fresh news; everybody had begun gathering at a stadium-like place neightboring the outskirts of the College grounds. The city of trees outlining the grounds had forbid us from seeing what lied beyond these parts, even as we journeyed to the very top of bleachers.

It amazed me just how _big_ this place was. If you stood at one end of the stadium, you could see it stretched forever - the other end an unperceivable abyss. And the only reason you couldn't see the other end was because of the colossal cage turtling over the actual arena. It was like a humongous shell; black metal bars spiderwebbing over thick, transparent glass. It was meant to prevent anyone from interfering with the Games, or so that's what Liam said.

"But then what's the purpose of the metal bars?" I asked.

Liam comtemplated. "Hm... a conspicuous spell..?" he suggested. "Hm... I actually think I _recognize_ it." He leaned forward in his seat and narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the cage. "Yup," he deduced, leaning back, "it's a spell."

"What's it for?" I pressed.

Liam pursed his lip, deliberating. "I'm not sure," he admitted, "though I'm sure whatever it is, it's there for a reason. If it wasn't important, it wouldn't be there."

I allowed my eyes to lather over the mysterious black branches that hugged the glass. The ends would occassionally curl like witch fingers over the clear surface. It was creepy, but at least I knew this was indeed a spell. A pretty powerful one, that is. The principal must've cast it; a spell this monumental can only be performed by a Wolf of superior skill in wizardry, and judging from the Choosing Ceremony, I'd say the principal is one not to mess with.

"'Oly  _shet!_ "

I jerked in my seat as a hand casted harshly onto my shoulder. I twisted my head, frowning. "Niall, what- ?" But I stopped as I calculated his expression.

His face was warped -eyes buldging and mouth gaping- into a mask of sheer anguish as he stared off somewhere past me in the distance. Curious, I decided to follow the omega's gaze, though when I saw nothing spectacular out of the blue, I turned back to the blond one and pressed my eyebrow together. "There's no one...?" I said, muddled.

"Yeh, well," Niall said, "look again."

I flustered. "At _what?_ Niall you're scaring me."

The omega quickly lowered his head beside mine-levelling-and grabbed my chin and steered it. "Ye see tose two boys?" he asked, using his other hand to point.

I squinted, recognizing two boys standing-conversing-amid the bleachers, and nodded.

"Recegnize tem?"

I focused again, studying their features. The one was bulky and tanned with brown-black hair, and the other one.... Oh, shit. My eyes popped as I realized: that's _Calum!_ AKA, one of the two Wolves whom everyone believed got expelled at the football practise! It was perplexing seeing him here. Anyone convicted or seen of shape-shifting on school grounds was punished with a immediate expulsion; or so that's what the rules said. I wondered why he was here... did the authorites allow him mercy?

"Tat's bloody _Calum_ ," Niall stated, amazed. "Wonder what he's doin'ere, knowin' just a few days ago he was supposed te be outta 'ere."

"I don't know," I said, "but let's go see."

I emerged from my seat and followed with Niall over to Calum. I was overflowing with inquiry: how did Calum convince them not to expell him? How was he broken up from the fight? What happened after the fight? What did they tell him? What did his parents think? What happened to the other guy? Was he safe, too?

Calum's eyes flickered, noticing us approaching, and his head stirred to peer clearly over his friend's shoulder. Inevitably, his friend followed Calum's gaze, but Niall and continued towards Calum. And though I wasn't a sorcerer, I could practically _feel_ the dread leaking off this boy as we stepped in front of him.

"'Ey, Calum," Niall greeted, then gestured to me, "ye know Louis, right?"

"Yeah," Calum answered, his smile mousy, "you're, uhm... you're the omega who stands beside the coach during practise."

I smiled back tightly. Of _course_ he had to input the omega part. "Yeah. I'm actually getting an internship."

Calum's friend blinked. "You wanna be a _coach?_ "

"No, no," I said quickly, "I just..." I pantomimed my hands to nothing, "There was no other internship offering a free spot for a therapist, and I like football so I thought maybe I could learn something from watching others play."

"Is it 'cause the only football team that's offered here at the school is only for alphas and betas?"

I didn't say anything.

"Well, whatever," Niall said, "talkin' about football isn't te reason we came over 'ere." He looked to Calum. "We were actually wonderin' how te _fudge_ you got outta expulsion."

Calum smiled sheepishly, lowering his head as if ashamed before reeling it back up with a sigh. "Erm... yeeeeah..." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "about _that_... I managed to make a deal with the principal."

Niall blinked. "A _deal?_ "

"Yeah, uh... it seems the big bad alpha headmaster that everyone is so scared of is actually very negotiable. I got community service in return to keep my education here."

Niall was skeptical. "Weird... usually shape-shiftin' while on school grounds 's like te biggest rule-breaker ever. 'M surprised yer not facin' charges."

"Yeah," Calum agreed, "I was scared about that... but apparently we get a warning the first time we do something stupid."

"What happened to the other guy?" I asked suddenly.

Calum geared towards me. "He pretty much got the same as me," he divulged. He then smiled bashfully. "He's actually thinking about getting a restraining order against me."

Vehement shouting in the distance prompted Calum's head to wheel around. A group of boys -presumably alphas- appeared a yard away and beckoned him over. Calum nodded to them, hollering back that he'll be _"right there!"_ , and then turned back to Niall and I, smiling guiltily. "I gotta go. Sorry we didn't really get a chance to talk."

"'S fine," Niall said.

"I guess I'll see you on the soccer field?" Calum then said to me.

I nodded plainly. "Yeah."

Calum departed with his friend to join the group, mingling and shading off somewhere. Curiosity glossed Niall's eyes when I turned to look at him and I quickly became wonderous of what the omega could be thinking.

"So... te principal?" Niall brings up, "seems he don' expel people te moment tey do sometin stupid."

"Yeah... it's suspicious."

"I find it pretty comfertin'," Niall states as-a-matter-'o-fact, starting to walk back towards Liam, "'cause least I know now I can rob te snack machine and only get'a warnin'."

"Calum and the other guy were overwhelmed by instincts," I told him. "By doing something dirty like that on _purpose_ would end in a different scenario, Niall."

"I'll jus' blame Liam ten."

"You two are locked on a deal," I told him warningly, "and please don't make this deal end early. I really want to enjoy a day without banter between my two lovely dorm mates."

Niall growled. "Ugh. _Fine_. But it's so hard not to insult tat know-it-all beta."

'' _Try_ , Niall," I pressed, "at least _try_ and I'll be happy."

Niall snickered mischievously. "I know what'll make ye happy."

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

I was curious as Niall ushered me down the stadium stairs because it hadn't been the original way for which we headed up. I'd first assumed that the omega was guiding me to the food court, but then we just continued down a shady hallway, dragging on for five minutes before yellow started to illuminate near the end. The entrance to the golden room was concealed by violet silk curtains. Niall stopped me before the entrance and turned to me with a roguish smile and whispered, "Don't tell te beta." He peeled away the curtains and shoved me in.

The room was -in simplest terms- a big, velvet tent. It had an assortment of rich comfort that consisted mostly of silk couches and soft blankets. It seemed to set a calming mood, as if to console someone in a time of worry or distress. Immediately, I wondered what this place was, and who resided here.

"'Ey! Luke!"

 _Luke?_ I whipped my head to the side. There, sported in a black-and-red jacket, was Luke himself. His face was skeptical as if he'd just turned around from hearing his name, then glossed with rejoice as he spotted Niall, the Irish omega swallowing him into one of his infamous bear hugs. Wait, since when did Niall and Luke know each other?

The two grinned and confabulated for a minute, exchanging simple, friendly talk. Niall turned to me, a daisy smile on his face, then back to Luke. "Luke, I'd like t'introduce you t'someone."

Luke geared his attention to me and beamed with realization.

"Tis is-"

"Louis!" Luke finished, already fishing in for the hug.

I grunted with a chuckle as the alpha embraced me. When I hugged back, I noticed his jacket felt silky and slick - similar to a rain jacket. I'd recognized these kinds of jackets at the S.S. Sports, and they were grossly expensive. It wasn't necessary a _rain_ jacket; it was waterproof, yes, but it was mainly designed to hinder the urge to shape-shift. If someone wearing the jacket got an abrupt rivet of anger, the jacket would release a small dose of magic that helped to soothe the muscles and gently ebb the body temperature. I wasn't exactly sure _why_ Luke was wearing the jacket, but I could see a fair reason as the tent here was gorgeous and most definitely would lay waste if one were to accumulate into a monstrous wolf creature while inside.

Still, it teetered me. I'd never seen anybody wear one before, and to see Luke randomly sported in one had me guessing.

Niall's brows crinkled with surprise. "You two know each oter?"

"Yeah," Luke said, detaching from me with a sheepish grin, "sorry I didn't tell you, Ni."

Niall's mood then suddenly plummeted to lambasting and unimpressed as he narrowed his eyes. "Tat's not te only ting you didn't tell me, ye lyin' shit." Allowing it to linger, Niall awaited a response, but only received a startled, _the-hell-you-talking-about?_ face from Luke, so he added with Irishy reprimand, "Ye never came to te _party!_ Ye told me you'd be tere, remember? Or'r ye just tat careless, Luke?"

Luke's eyes widened with realization, then molded with fear upon the omega's scorn. "Oh, yeah... uh, sorry about that, Niall. I can explain though."

"YE DONE YER EXPLAIN', CUNT!"

"No, Nialler, honest!" Luke pleaded, "I'm sorry, but there's a reason I had to miss that party."

I decided to step in. "Just let him explain himself."

Niall's bitterness stretched even as not a word was said. He glared coldly at the alpha, though a deliberate mercy reflected in those blue eyes of his, and Niall inevitably sighed in defeat, though his wrath stuck with him as a back-up in case he found Luke's explaining to be flat.

"Kaykay, Lou," Niall growled, "but tis is only because I trust you." Then he snapped his attention back to Luke. "G'on, Hemmins'."

"Alright, well, you see, one of my professors was apparently given the job to design the arena for the First Task, and when he saw me walking down the hallway on the day of the party, he stopped me and asked me if I could give him some pointers. I have a good mark in his Spells class -not to boast- so he thought I could help him out with the building an appropriate cage for the arena."

The _spell?!_ "Wait!" I blurted, "you mean the black spiderweb thing outside?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah. That."

I was instantly intrigued. "So, you know how it works?"

Luke snickered. "I _built_ it, Louis... well, I mean- " He looked down, a little self-conscious, " -I couldn't actually _perform_ the spell since it stretched too far, but I still designed it."

"What does it do?" I pressed.

Luke's cheeks tinted a flattered pinkish-red. "Well, actually it- "

"Where did te conversation go?!" Niall suddenly demanded. "'ELLO? I still require an explanation as t'why Luke Shitface 'ere didn't go to te party!"

Luke flustered. "Er." He shot an apologetic look to me. "I'll just finish explaining this then I'll get back to you." He looked to Niall, the alpha automatically despairing upon the omega's choleric gaze. "Uhm... where was I exactly?"

Niall fumed. "Ye built some cage fer te arena." He carried the response between clenched teeth.

"Oh, yes, uhm... so basically, Nialler, while I was helping out the professor, I completely forgot about the party. It was nearly midnight by the time we'd finished, and someone told me you were given a ride back to your room, so I just headed back to my room."

Niall continued to stare at the alpha, evaluating his explanation carefully. Niall was definitely the one to get a little fiesty over a small deal (well, honestly, most of the time, the thing he was bitter about wasn't even important; nontheless made any sense - to me, anyway), so it wouldn't surprise me if Niall chose to bear a grudge over this fib; however, it also wouldn't surprise me if Niall bawled and forgave Luke in a few seconds. He had very... bubbly emotions. One moment the omega was happy, and the next he was a bag full of Irish rage.

Fortunately, Niall's metal expression soon softened and he manumitted a slight, crescent smile that edged at the corner of his lips. "Alright, okay," he admitted, "ye may not b'golden, but I forgive ye."

Luke instantaneously rammed Niall with a hug, spilling elated _"Thank-you!"_ s all over him. I marveled. Not only was I amazed at the chemistry, but also curious. It was just as significant as a revelation to Niall discovering Luke and I knew each other as it was for me realizing _they_ knew each other, too. It's not to say I was _angry_ by this ('cause honestly I wasn't), but I almost felt betrayed. I would've like to have known about the cute relationship between these two earlier.

"Okay, Louis," Luke said, ungluing from Niall, "your turn now."

 _My turn?_... Oh yeah! He was talking about the cage spell. Okay. I nodded, my excitement from the subject returning vigorously.

"The spell is like a preventer in a way," Luke explained, "but it's mainly meant to shield the eyes, and that's why it's black as night; it's a blinding spell."

I tilted my head - questioning. "What's it suppose to blind?"

Luke opened his mouth to answer, but frustratingly another voice had cut in, and it wasn't Niall or I.

"Louis, it's nearly twenty degrees outside. A scarf isn't exactly the most apporpriate kind of souvenir to wear."

I steered around to identify the source of this mystery-ruiner, but Niall had somehow lunged to it first - literally.

"Aiden!"

The omega sprung right past me, the air flicking my clothes lightly upon the gust of Niall's catapulting form. He locked Aiden in a vice and the alpha simply just snickered, amused by the omega's energetic antics.

" _Wow_ ," I heard Luke marvel as he loomed up beside me, "till this day I find it fascinating how this little thing can go from angry to happy to euphoric."

"He's _tiny_ ," I elucidated. "He's only got so much room for one emotion at a time."

Luke hummed impressively. "Clever way to put it." I noticed his head stir to look directly at me, and he implied, " _You're_ pretty petite, too, Louis."

"Your point?" I pressed.

Luke shrugged subtly. "You're tiny, yet you manage to hold it all in just fine."

I bit my lip surreptitiously. _It may look like that from the outside..._

I watched amusedly as Niall bantered to Aiden. It was funny to see the omega swap emotions so quickly and with such earnest... but then I noticed that Aiden was wearing the _exact same_ jacket as Luke, except it was black-and- _green_ \- not black-and- _red_. Same style, same company, just different colours... was there something I was missing here?

I shot to the scenery and observed once more. Elephant-sized tent, ostentatious comfort, beautiful golden colours... non of this existed inside the college; it was as if this was construct solely for a special event. How had I been so _oblivious?_ This was the Warriors' _backstage_ room!

"Niall!" I directed firmly.

The culprit himself looked to me with a joyous, unconcerned face. "Yeah, Lou?"

Appalled, I said, "You never told me this was the _private_ room!" I motioned accusingly at the area. "This-? We're not supposed to be here! We can get in serious trouble for this!"

"Aw, c'mon, Lou!" Niall waved away, "tese guys don' mind!"

Luke piped up. "Nobody else can come in here except us and friends. The teachers already told us what's gonna happen out there and what we need to do so that they wouldn't have to worry us right before the actual thing."

I still held up. "It doesn't feel right being back here." I sighed. "I mean, you and Aiden and Harry must need concentration before..." My heart seized in my chest when I'd fearfully absorbed my own blatant words into account.

Harry. _Harry_ was one of them - here in this tent. And I was wearing a freakin' scarf!

_"Just in case that twat Aiden thinks about looking at you again," Harry said smugly, then his face turned serious for a moment as he told me, "Do not cover this. If I see you so much as wearing a scarf, I'll shove you right back in here and give you three more."_

I didn't want to do it under trepidation of what would happen if Harry found out, but I also couldn't have people ogling at the _hickey_ on my neck, so I hoped with Harry being in the arena the whole time that he wouldn't notice, but here I am - in the midst of the _one place_ where he's residing in until the First Task starts. Wonderful.

"Louis?"

I squeaked, tugging my hair as I anxiously patroled my sights all around the place, dreading to see his evil face, yet I was adamant about finding him. The worst thing is _not_ knowing where your enemy is. Not knowing most likely means they know where _you_ are, and when they know where _you_ are and you don't know where _they_ are, it becomes an ugly mess, and I knew exactly how this would unfold if I never found him.

I had barely noticed Luke had passed me over to Niall, who took me gently around the waist. Luke muttered something about a _"panic attack"_ and Aiden hurried Niall off with me towards the exit, urging him to _"take Lou upstairs so he can get some fresh air."_ I felt like I was confined in a small, foggy box, the claustrophobia creeping up on me every second. I blindly allowed Niall to escort me upstairs, hearing something about _"Zayn"_ before we actually touched upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it was short, but listen: I'm hoping to chop this chapter up into three parts! Maybe it'll just be two, but I'm pretty sure I'll need three.
> 
> BUT WHAT'D YOU THINK? Good start, yes?... not good start? Okay, tell me! And also... I'd LOVE to discuss "Step Up" with you if you're just as interested in the series as me. If so, I just think maybe you should know that I love Moose... just sayin' :) That little peanut sure can dance, don't you think so?
> 
> (I CHANGED THIS!) Here's something to look forward to in the second part: Zayn AND Harry make an appearance!
> 
> P.S. Do you like my little poster I made for The First Task? It was just a little something I came up with hehehe... ;)


	9. тнe ғιrѕт тaѕĸ (parт тwo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Task has started, and it doesn't exactly go as planned...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I apologize in all the beginning notes of these chapters... can I'm gonna do it again because it's been so long: sowwy... :(
> 
> BUT IT'S HERE NOW!!! YAY!! READ IT, AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!
> 
> Oh, and tere's lots 'o Nouis where yer headin'! :)

 

"Hey, 's he okay?"

"I don' know, mate. He's been like tis fer nine minutes."

"What happened?"

A pause. "I dunno... he jus' started te freak out, so tat's why I brought 'im up 'ere."

"... Louis?"

I could feel the grip of Harry's large hand on my shoulder; a shadow from the past, yet still strong enough to return to traumatize me further. And I could feel his incisors digging into the skin of my neck into the spot where he was so adamant about leaving a purple bruise there - a mark, a _claim_. He had tethered me down with his own two hands as if I were just some doll, and even as it was over now, I still felt it; I still feared it again.

Something -a hand?- suddenly touched my knee, and it was like shattering glass. A yelp forced its way past my lips as I cringed away from the touch. It only reminded me - reminded me of _him_. Harry, and every little dark, malicious thing he stood for.

"He's traumatized," informed a familiar voice. Zayn? "Just give him a few minutes."

"We _'ave!_ " hollered another voice. It's accented... Niall? "We've been givin' 'im the time 'o' day! At tis rate, he's gon' miss te First Task! And ye all kno' 'ow much Loueh's been lookin' ferward te this ting, right?! Am I not ri- !?"

"Niall," came a steep, firm voice. Liam.

"What?! What could ye possibly want _tis_ time, beta?!"

"Your boisterous tone isn't helping Louis at all."

A scoff. "Well, _serry!_ I can' help- !"

" _Niall_." It's firm and a little piqued, but it's not Liam; it's Zayn again.

A huff. "FINE! I'll jus'... _FINE_ , I'll jus' _LEAVE_ ten!" There was a silence before a distant, "cunts..." was heard lastly from the omega, then he was finished.

My eyes had been squeezed shut as I'd been too apprehensive about what I'd might see if I did open them, but as it seemed that everyone else vacated the surrounding area, I felt a slight draw of comfort from my claustrophobia. I hadn't been counting the minutes, but I knew a while had passed. I'd tried to find aid in the fresh air and my breathing, hoping that eventually the discomforting static on my skin would dissipate as I calmed.

"You're okay, Lou," came Zayn's gentle voice. I found a slight solace in the comfort from a friend, and with it being Zayn of all people made just enough of a difference to allow me to tear through the surface and feel alive again.

My eyelids fluttered open, shyly allowing myself to absorb the scenery. The pale sun prickled a little, but I quickly became accustomed to it. I blinked continuously, as if trying to convince myself I was in reality now... and I was. The connections of my mind to reality mended, and I heaved in a relieving sigh. It didn't feel nice been confined in the dark side of my mind. I was a lot happier to be resurfaced.

"You okay?"

Almost forgetting Zayn was sat to my right, I jerked my head, a little startled, then eased when I registered his face. I nodded, humming drowsily. _I'm tired?_ I thought. Did it literally take that much effort to return?

"Good." His hand began dragging lightly down my back, though in a comforting manner that I may or may not have purred into a little. Geez, omega-alpha chemistry could be _really_ annoying sometimes...

... And it could be frustrating, too. _Very_ frustrating (hint, hint).

I frowned, suddenly embarrassed. I hated that I allowed Harry to touch me. I mean, I wasn't very _accepting_ on the idea, but being who I was forbidded me from refusing either. It's literally like nature decided for me in those situations... and I hated it.

"Hey," Zayn murmured - consoling, "you're fine, yeah?"

I was quiet for a moment, then I shrugged.

"What's bothering you?"

Oh... I couldn't tell him that. I fidgeted. "Uhm..."

"I get if you don't wanna tell me," Zayn said, "I just heard from a few that it's better for the person to just let it out, you know? And it makes sense, I mean, you can't be holding it in forever 'cause eventually you're gonna pop, right?"

That was true... but I still couldn't tell him. It was like there was a barrier in my mind that I couldn't break down. No matter what ram or force I applied, it was always futile.

"C'mere, Lou."

I was suddenly tugged to the side, making my head meet Zayn's strong shoulder. I was about to reel away as I felt sheepish upon the gesture, but I instead become enamoured to the warmth - _alpha_ warmth- and quickly eased up, letting myself lax against Zayn. His arm curled around me as his hand made succouring slides up and down my arm. Zayn felt so much different from Harry in many ways -warm, caring, gentle- and I think that's what made me forget about Harry for the time being.

I stared out to the stadium, letting my thoughts float absentmindedly. I wondered how much longer it'd be until the The First Task would begin, but I couldn't bring myself to feel elated about the idea of two people I _cared_ about being tossed around inside the glass shell while others looked upon them and cheered foolishly. Cheering on a friend as they cry in pain... it was sick. I was praying that nobody would get injured _too_ badly in this first bloody event. I hated to imagine going face-to-face with one of those savage Mónimos Werewolves. Hopefully Liam was right; hopefully the caretakers had depoisoned the beasts.

I was broken from my reverie when I heard a different voice -not Zayn's- enter the atmosphere. My body jolted when the familiar, sinister timbre slithered to my ears, and I realized with a horror who it was that had found us.

"Hey, Zayn."

Zayn hand paused on my arm, then resumed once he probably realized who it was. "Oh, hey, Harry."

I stiffened dreadfully. The scarf. He was here. And I was still wearing the scarf. _"Do not cover this. If I see you so much as wearing a scarf, I'll shove you right back in here and give you three more."_  The blood drained from my face and oozed a cold, sharp substance that poisoned me with that familiar feeling of fear. The special kind of fear I got whenever -and _only_ whenever- Harry was in the proximity. Only it felt _worse_ now -almost sickening- since I had significant reason to be apprehensive.

I was steadily drowning back into the pool of my despair when I felt Zayn nudge my arm. The gesture was simple, but it managed to kept me afloat. And then I remembered: _Zayn_ was here. Harry would _never_ pull something malicious on me with someone else around. I quickly felt a comfort, and clung a little closer to Zayn as if for reassurance.

'Course, there was the matter of the scarf, but for now, I was content in knowing I was in the safe zone of Zayn's arm. I'd worry later.

"You remember Louis, right?" Zayn asked Harry. _If only he knew..._

And of course, feigning his upmost infamous tone, Harry replied, "Oh, yeah! Of course."

My insides quivered. I didn't reply for a serpant hid behind those fake words. Only I knew who he truly was, and I wasn't about to seize myself up to the fake act he was portraying. Course, then again, I wasn't about to make the grudge I have against him obvious either, so I tightened a smile in response, feeling disgusted in myself for even showing the _least_ bit of 'friendliness' to this person. He probably found it gratifying -that I still hadn't ratted him out yet- but I never dared to look to see. The sight of his smug face wasn't something I looked forward to seeing.

"He's a bit tired right now," Zayn told Harry in a hushed tone, making it seem as though I had a headache and didn't want to trouble me. "Had a bit of a falling-out earlier."

"Oh." He sounded genuinely puzzled. "What happened?"

I wan't terribly surprised about the tone of Harry's response since he wasn't there when my panic attack occurred, but it still made me antsy 'cause the reason I had the attack in the first place was _because_ of him. I was suddenly relieved that I hadn't told anyone the truth behind the attack or else surely -if Harry found out- he'd take it to his advantage.

Zayn was quiet for a moment, then he turned to look down at me. "I don't know." He squeezed my bicep in a form of console. "He didn't tell me." He wheeled back to Harry. "I don't think he wants to talk about it though."

"Ah. Okay," Harry said, "I'll respect that." _Probably the only thing you "respect" about me... if you weren't playing up the good guy, that is._

"You all ready for the Games?" Zayn asked, changing the subject.

Surreptitiously, I peeked up at Harry through my lashes, and I noticed something immediately. He was wearing a replica of Aiden and Luke's jackets, only his was black-and- _blue_. Hm... it was all starting to make sense now. They didn't _buy_ those expensive jacket; the jackets were _given_ to them by the school. It was quite clever, too, because the jackets imbued a hormone that promoted tranquility into their bloodtream; calmed them before the Task.

... Thinking about it now seemed pretty obvious. Guess I was too busy worrying about Harry finding out about my scarf.  
I shivered at the thought and looked down, diverting my eyes.

"Yeah," Harry answered cooly, "I keep wondering what's gonna happen."

"Yeah... though I keep wondering what _that_ thing's for," Zayn said.

I was suddenly curious about what Zayn was referring to, and peered up at him. I followed his gaze towards the stadium and surmised that he must've been talking about the huge, black spiderweb-like thing. The words tumbled off my tongue before I could reconsider my actions.

"It's a spell," I told him.

Zayn snapped his head to me, and I noticed that his stroking hand on my arm had froze. "A _spell?_ " he repeated, "wha- who told you that?"

I was about to answer that... then I realized that if I said "Luke" there'd be some major questioning. Luke had been residing in the private room all day. Either I'd have to compose some ridiculous lie, or I'd risk getting a scolding (because if I knew Zayn enough, I knew he wouldn't be pleased with me running off somewhere I shouldn't've been - especially if it was with Niall).

Unfortunately, I panicked, and impulsively muttered, "Uhm, uh... L-Luke did." Then I added hastily, "I asked him through text." Hm... that one wasn't too bad actually. I felt a slight pride in the convincing quality of the lie.

Of course though, it was freaking _Zayn Malik_ , and the alpha quickly shot me a narrow-eyed glare. He was testing me. I forced myself not to flinch; a flinch was a dead give-away. I waited for a response, hoping Zayn would buy it. Relief came with a price though as Zayn sighed, but then said, "Hm. That so, huh? So, what were you talking about before for him to say that?"

 _Dammit, you shouldn't've opened your big mouth!_  I lambasted at myself, feeling anxious where Zayn's suffocating scrutiny fell upon me. I forced my body to remain stiff, to not fidget. He was still testing me. God, I hated him right now, almost as much as I hated myself for saying anything in the first place.

"He's fine, Zayn," Harry suddenly said. _Harry?_ "I'm sure he didn't mean to do anything bad."

"Well, I trust that _Louis_ wouldn't do something bad on his own," Zayn replied, still staring at me, "but I saw him with that blond Satan earlier... and I don't trust _him_." There was a tense pause before Zayn asked, "Horan didn't make you do anything you didn't want to, _did he?_ "

Ugh... I couldn't rat Niall out. The omega was only trying to show me something for fun, and he also was the one to escort me back out here when I started to have the panic attack, so it wasn't like Niall _deserved_ Zayn's wrath for what he did.

"No- " I answered, though it scratched out in the form of a squeak. "No," I repeated more clearly, though I knew the damage had already been done.

Zayn was silent for a moment. "Why do I get the feeling that you're being a bad boy right now?"

 _Bad boy?_ my omega cried, and I nearly whined where I curled up on the seat, manifesting guilt. Now he was _really_ doing it. Why the hell was this so important to him? Did he want to embarrass me? _Just let it go already, you pushy alpha!_

I jolted when I felt a hard pinch on my arm. _Shit_.

"You _are_ lying," Zayn said flatly.

 _Nono!_ I wanted to say, but my lips were sewed shut. I tore my head away from the both of them, a soft chagrin rising in my face. I was expecting another chiding statement from Zayn, but instead Harry's doctoring voice beat him to it.

"Leave the omega be, Zayn," the alpha stated, his tone dulcet and the complete opposite of what I'd been taught. Was this how he acted around everyone except me? Did I seriously scrape at his nerves _that_ much? But I wondered also why he was defending me right now. _Probably to set a good image for himself in front of Zayn_ , I thought with a rising pique. "If you say you trust him, then don't make him feel guilty for it."

Zayn sighed, shrugging slightly. "Yeah... guess you're right, Harry." The alpha shot me an apologetic smile, yet while still maintaining his 'cool composure. "Sorry, Lou. I just don't like the idea of you getting into trouble."

"'S fine," I muttered, my lips like tight ropes as I forced a smile back.

Seeing Zayn press a matter like this felt a bit weird, and I just wanted this moment to pass already. I guess it was because I just wasn't accustomed to this parent-like image of Zayn yet; I'd always viewed him as the cool, nonchalant teen rebel, so to see the mirror turn became a bit too much to absorb all at once.

Harry then suddenly breathed out with a slight growling rouse as he stretched his arms forward. "Alright," he grunted, seizing his arms back to noodle at his sides, "well, I should be going then. Gotta be there ten minutes before the Game starts."

"It starts in ten minutes?" Zayn asked, gripped suddenly. The excitement doesn't blow right on his face, but instead hides in his voice. Zayn's expression never breaks its chic persona.

"Yup." And then Harry -without another word- buried his hands in his jacket pockets and spun with a grace back towards the Warriors' room.

I watched, dumfounded. That was _it?_ I wasn't complaining, but surely I'd been expecting at least _something_ from my bully, but he barely even batted an eye at me. He spoke about me, but acted like I was invisible the whole time. Had he even _noticed_ the scarf? Had he even _cared?_ Whatever it was, it didn't matter, but it added to my apprehension regardless.

 

 

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Ten minutes after Harry left, two things had happened. One, it started to rain, for which -by the mercy of one of the teachers- a spell had been bound overtop of us as a shield from the droplets' assaults; and two, one of the teacher substituting for the principal's place (because apparently he was "preoccupied at the moment") had emerged and flattened us with a speech that was to be expected. I'd droned out within a few mintues of dully listening and planted my cheek into my palm, resting myself monotonously as my mind drifted to other things.

Niall had returned with a vengeance. The furious omega had been biting insults at Liam as they ambled back together, and me being the irate friend I was glowered with a reminding lambaste at the omega. Quickly upon registering my glare, Niall's fury steamed down, and he shushed. Niall had dropped into the seat next to me dramatically and leant his head against my shoulder as if asking for forgiveness. _No way_ , I'd thought, and growled lowly at him. Even as it was omega-to-omega, Niall still guilted upon my disappointment for some reason.

" _One job_ , Niall," I grumbled, this time allowing the omega to droop apologetically onto my shoulder. It had only been for the sheer thread of my restrain that allowed me to stop from screaming at him. _And for_ one _day,_ I thought slyly.

"'M serry, Lou...," Niall murmured gloomily. A few seconds passed before he started stirring and pawing at my arm almost demandingly. "Please, Lou... I don' like it when yer mad at me..."

I huffed. "I'm not mad at you, Niall," I told him, "I just wish you could stop pestering Liam - and the same goes for the beta," I added just as Niall was about to object.

Niall shrunk again, sagging against me closely, not leaving a single pocket of air between us. It was as if he was trying to mold himself into me. "Lou...," he whined again.

"Niall," I spoke sternly.

Niall whimpered like a punished puppy (and quite frankly, he was). " _Please_ , Lou... I don' wan' Liam te touch me hair..." He was referring to the bet I composed for the two of them: for the first one to slip an insult to the other would have to tolerate a full day of a hairstyle of the other's choosing.

"Too bad," I replied coldly. _Should've listened_ , the unforgiving words cut in my mind.

Niall didn't say anything else; he just fell peccantly against me. But no, not this time. Just this once I wouldn't allow Niall to get away with it. He'd know punishment exists; he'd know I could be serious, and that I wouldn't be teetered by something so pathetic as cuddles and sobs. He'd always pull this tactic of his whenever I got frustrated with him, and I always succumbed to it, so that was probably why he still did it.

But not this time! Nope. This time, I was made of steel.

But still, the omega refused to give up. Just as the teacher was wrapping up his written speech, Niall started to fawn all over me - literally. After his several ignored attempts to deter me with little pleas and nudges, Niall had evolved his tactics and clampered from his seat onto my lap.

I grunted. " _Niall- !_ You are so _pathetic!_ "

Niall took no account for my comment, and let his weight descend negligently onto my chest. I coughed sharply as the air I had in my air was forced straight out. Niall did not seem to notice that either, and simply curled up against me. And to add the cherry on top (as if his kittenish antics weren't enough), Niall -with those big, blue eyes of his- peered up at me. Even though he was faking it, I could feel my walls cracking at the sight of his cherub face.

I ripped my gaze away, but even as _I_ wasn't looking at him, _he_ was looking at _me_. Staring harshly out into the stadium, I could feel Niall's earnest scrutiny burning on my skin. He had not budged once since he initiated that gaze, and I was castigating myself for already despairing upon the effects of it.

"Ugh," I groaned, rubbing my face in exasperation, " _one_ of these days, Niall, you're not going to get off easy." _I can't do it anymore - not with him incessantly staring at me like that._

Niall hummed triumphantly. "Mmm... does tat mean you've forgiven me?"

I growled, "Not on _purpose_."

Regardless, Niall beamed, springing up and wreathing his arms around my neck. "Tank-you, tank-you!" he exclaimed jubilantly, stuffing his face into my neck affectionately.

"Y-You're- " I grunted, " -you are so _insufferable_ , Horan!"

"I'll add tat to 'patetic,'" Niall snickered without an ounce of remorse.

I ignored him. And after the speech had ended, Niall took mercy on me and jumped back on his own seat, carrying his pride with him. I sunk in my seat, battered with self-loathe and an undying conviction to take my vengeance one of these days. _Hopefully I'll get used to it_ , I hoped as I watched the first gate inside the stadium slowly lift.

It was starting.

When the gate fully opened, a large Wolf shot out. The onlookers hooted and murmured amongst each other. I'd only been given a mere glimpse of a blond-brown blur before whoever it was disappeared under the shrouding of the tree canopy. I hadn't quite noticed the trees from before; I'd mainly been focusing on the large, thick glass shell overtopping the stadium and the peculiar black web that stretched across it. I'd never once taken note into what lurked within the stadium.

Now I couldn't even _see_ who it was that was going first... not that I would've been able to. Whoever it was had shape-shifted into a pure, beastly Wolf, and I didn't think I'd ever seen Aiden, Luke nor Harry in their Wolf forms to be able to recognize who it was _even_ if I saw him.

... Wait, what was the point here? Liam had told me and Niall that if any of the three don't complete their "goal" in the time given, they wouldn't receive the "hint" to the next Task... but _what_ was the goal here? What were they supposed to _do?_ I knew they'd be trapped in a confined area with a savage species with a time limit weighing on them, but what was their objective? To _kill_ it? Were they supposed to kill the Mónimos Werewolf? And how exactly were they supposed to obtain this "hint"?

After about thirty seconds, another gate could be heard creaking open. A thundering growl followed, causing the onlookers to gasp and chatter. I suddenly wondered if _only_ Liam and I knew about the Mónimos; that only _we_ were aware of the parlous threat that the Warriors were soon to face.

"What... is _tat?_ " Niall whispered in astonishment and fear. I could feel him edge closer to me, and I allowed it without indignation. I was over my vex with him; I found it was too hard to stay mad at this boy.

Surely Liam wouldn't mind. I mean, eventually Niall was gonna find out, right? I tried to convince myself as I felt a pinch of guilt upon the thought of telling Niall what I knew. I exhaled, and then told him, "It's called a Mónimos Werewolf."

Niall was silent for a moment, presumably soaking in the name. "M-Mónimos?" he asked quietly, "wha-what does tat mean?"

"It, uhm... it means 'permanent.'"

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Niall blink in bemusement. "Why permanent?"

 _Okay, this is it,_ I thought, _just tell him_. I was slightly worried about Niall's reaction. Even though we were basically the same age, Niall felt like a baby to me. Just based on the way he acted, I'd come to perceive him as an innocent child. Yes, he could be gremlin at times, but it still broke my heart to tell him horrible things. I always felt like it'd scar him somehow, even though Niall understood every sexual reference in the book.

I told him what a Mónimos Werewolf was, observing as his face divulged into a frightened mask. But then, minutely, the strings of his lips curved into a grin. He looked like a little boy that'd just discovered something awesome.

" _Poisonous_ Werewolves?" Niall mazed, "so, like, if one o' te guys gets bit by one, ten it'd kill 'em?" The sickening smile on his face made me shiver a little.

"Uh, well actually, all the Mónimos have been de-venomized for obvious reasons."

Niall just nodded. "Ah. Well, I suppose tat's better tan te oter way 'round," he said, "I mean, I'd rater me friends not die, ye know?"

"Yeah. Of course, Niall."

Then Zayn's voice slithered into the conversation. "So, where did you get _that_ information from, Lou?"

My heart immediately stabbed in my chest. "Erm... from a book..?"

Zayn intimidating eyes lingered on me secondly, but then it started to edge into smirk. It wasn't the I-got-you-now smirk like what I'd been expecting; it was a I'm-just-dicking-with-you smirk. I flustered at first upon what this meant, but then I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him, and as the smirk infecting his face didn't deter, I blew with a mortification.

"You- ? You're _not_ mad?!" I felt betrayed - humiliated to nothing. Was he just fooling with me last time, too?

"Your face is comical when you're guilty, Louis," Zayn told me, snickering.

So... he _was_ just playing me. And this meant _nothing_ to him? Agh. I had to remind myself that Zayn was my _friend_ as I burned with a fury and twisted my head away. I shouldn't known; it was Zayn after all - the trouble-making rebel. As if there'd be any sudden spark of responsibility in that boy. I was so embarrassed now...

"I hate you," I muttered belligerently.

Zayn droned amusedly. "Mmm, no you don't," he said, tugging me towards him so that my head would fall upon his shoulder, "you just wish you did."

I snorted, yanking my head off his should with a unyielding umbrage. "No," I spoke firmly, "I _do_. I _really_ do _hate_ you." Though, even through my own words, I noticed the lurking lie that couldn't be erased. I didn't hate Zayn - I couldn't. Just like with Niall, I couldn't bring myself to harbour the grudge.

Zayn huffed a chuckle, though words never strung from his mouth after that. He reeled me closer, squashing me against him and forcing my head to cushion onto his shoulder. I grunted in shame, and even more-so as the insufferable alpha leant down and attached a swift kiss to my forehead. It was like someone sticking his tongue out at you, except worse.

I grumbled, "You're annoying."

"I know," Zayn replied, the same shit-eating grin prominent in his voice.

 

 

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The dusty-blond Wolf was Luke. I learned this after he emerged from the concealing woods and popped out near our side of the stadium (well, the side closest to us). I had leant a little forward in my seat, anticipating for the inevitable, and then I saw those unmistakable anxious expression as the Wolf turned its head up, his intelligent eyes catching me for a moment before it returned briskly under the cover of trees. I'd slumped in my seat, hating the idea that _Luke_ -poor, innocent Luke- had to be first. Did they draw straws or something to decide?

Fortunately, Luke hadn't only surprised me, but a few others - especially those who still referred to him as "Luke the Fluke." The gangling alpha had somehow beat the challenge in just seven minutes (apparently to Liam anyway... since when had the beta been recording the time anyway?), and by "beat," I mean he killed the Mónimos in those seven minutes of ten offered.

Yes, it seemed the objective was to _kill_ the Mónimos. Guess they _were_ only meant for inhumane reasons. At least the one Luke faced had been finished with a swift neck snap. In the clearing (which was in the center of the arena), the Mónimos had tottered and snarled like a drunk zombie until Luke as leapt from the bushes and drew his locking jaw to the Werewolf's hairy arm. The beast had thrown Luke with an indignant roar, and just as it had begun to charge him, Luke had barrelled out of the way and sprung forward, claiming his kill.

The disgusting part came after. It seemed in order to retrieve the "hint," one had to go burrowing _inside_ the Mónimos' - literally. At least, this was what I realized after I saw Luke search the Werewolf's intestines until he finally found something small (for which I couldn't perceive since he tallied off right back to the room). Even though I was proud of Luke, it still took me a while to digest the events of what transpired.

Next was Aiden. I knew this from Niall who'd apparently already seen the alpha in his Wolf form.

Aiden obviously had more experience than Luke in his Wolf form. He shadowed in the trees like Luke had, but his attacks were more practised and swift as he lunged at his snarling adversary and slashed it, producing a grotesque artwork of cut wounds all across the beast's body.

The Mónimos had quickly become livid within the first few assualts, though even as blood drew from the lips of its wounds, it remained spry and alert; although, its way of defending itself was unusual... though, I guess it was expected from a creature who's brain had been befouled to mush. It snapped its jaw whilst twirling around repeatedly, as if to hopefully catch Aiden at all corners. It looked more affrighting than awkward.

Aiden -even as he was skilled- had been the unfortunate Wolf to receive a bite first. After an aerial slash again, the Mónimos had managed to revive itself in time to lock its jaw onto Aiden's ankle, thwarting him from escape. Commotion in the bleachers was quick to erupt as Aiden shrieked a grisly yowl. The Mónimos had dragged him backwards, deadly, thick talons producing as the Werewolf psyched itself up to chop Aiden up like a salad. I knew this because that was their specialty; Mónimos clawed and clawed at their victim until there was only a mess of blood and organs staining the grass, then it feasted vigorously without a regard.

I got a little sick to my stomach as I watched Aiden be hauled by the Mónimos, but then- _miraculously_ -Aiden spun around on his non-injured foot, his set of incisors making an appearance as he dug down into the Mónimos' gruff neck. The Werewolf never echoed a voice of pain, but it _did_ collapse from the force of Aiden's pounce, landing with a heavy thud. Aiden assaulted the open throat once the Mónimos was on its back and it was only half a minute later when Aiden's First Task was proclaimed successful.

I turned away as I figured what came next. I didn't even _care_ to see what Aiden was fishing out; the idea of him shoveling his snout into a half-dead creature's belly was the epitome of disgusting to me.

Niall seemed to take notice and cackled. "Ye okay, Lou? Yer lookin' a little pale ret now."

I growled, "Don't mock me."

"Aw, shucks! Lil' Loubear don' like te sight o' blood?" Niall teased with a wide, toothy smile that gleamed with derision, "don' worry tow, Louis; I'll let ye hold me hand." He offered me an open hand as he bubbled with giggles.

I warned with gnashed teeth, "You're making me mad, Niall."

Then it was like something changed immediately in the omega. His humourous grin evanesced like water to fire and was replaced by a bleeding sorrow; he looked like a child who'd just been scolded by his favourite relative. Niall's brows curved upward, indenting cherub wrinkles and his eyes quickly turned glossy with fresh tears. In just three seconds, the Irish fiend had shot forward and clung to my arm, shoving his face into my shoulder already sobbing.

"NO, NO, LOUIS!" he cried like a small child who'd just raced into his parents room, frightened by the boisterous thunder storm outside. He leaked all over my shoulder, and harshly gripped at my arm as if he might've been torn away somehow. "D-Don'- " He hiccuped, "d-don'- I-I don' w-want you t-t-te b-be mad at m-me-e- _EEEEE!_ "

Jesus Christ...

I shushed the omega by petting his hair. "S'okay, Niall," I told him, slightly astounded by the reaction. I mean, I knew this boy had dangerous mood swings ( _he actually might be going into heat soon_ , I thought), but where did this humongous issue with _me_ being mad at him spawn from? Were his parents never mad at him? Had he never been introduced to this feeling before now? Still, even as different suggestions fluttered my head, there were more pressing matters now.

I coursed my hand through Niall's hair with the arm that hadn't been tethered down, hoping he'd quiet eventually before we made a scene. Fortunately, Niall had found some sort of solace, and calmed a little more with each passing minute. Taking advantage of Niall being distracted, I leant towards Liam who sat beside Niall (which was a little peculiar, but I pushed the concern aside for now). Liam had several classes with Niall, so I was hoping the beta would know a little something about Niall's emotional antics.

"Hey, Liam," I whispered.

Liam jerked his head, then leant towards me, listening.

"Does Niall ever cry like this when other people are or say they're mad at him?" I asked, somehow lifting a giant weight off my chest. I'd never spoken about this before, just pushing it aside as something insignificant.

Liam cogitated, his eyes lolling elsewhere in thought, then he returned to me and shook his head. "Not that I know of," he answered.

"But you have classes with him," I tried desperately. I couldn't be the _only_ one that Niall acted like a baby around.

"Yeah... but he's mostly just really social and outgoing," Liam said. "He's like one of those free-spirited teens that doesn't care what others think of him." His face twisted with small befuddlement as he peered down to Niall practically glued to my arm (which was numbing now...). "I've, uh, never seen this before with anyone else." He looked apologetically to me. "Sorry, Louis."

"No, uhm," I waved away the topic to him, "it... it's fine." I fell back into my seat. "I was just curious, 's all."

Did... Niall even _have_ parents growing up? Did he maybe see me as the one he never had? I didn't really understand much of it other than how it baffled me that this boy only reacted this way to _me_. It was flattering and all, but still, Niall couldn't keep doing this. It just increased my worry for him.

I think Niall had drifted asleep on me just as the last match was opening up. His little purrs and whines had transitioned into dull murmurs and hums, the kind you hear when someone's peacefully asleep. It amazed me how even in his _sleep_ , Niall had an assuring grip on me. I tried to distract myself by gazing in through the stadium to see what was going on. Peals and elated squeals carried throughout the bleachers as young omegas begun chanting enthusiastically.

I sunk back in my seat when I realized _who_ was the last contender.

I heard the gate open, but I refused to see him enter the arena. I'd thought Harry was popular before, but after being forced to listen to the plentiful squeals from omegas and encouraging shouts from some betas and alphas, I realized he was _really_ popular now.

And yet, these people were only shown the _one_ side of him. I wondered what would happen if they knew what lurked on the other side of Harry's personality.

Still, even as it was Harry's turn, I couldn't help but find intrigue in watching the Mónimos make an appearance. Before it had even entered, there had been a slight agitation in the air. Growls and fury could be distinguished even from the dark depths of the tunnel before it emerged into the arena with a baleful energy.

I blinked as I perceived the Werewolf. Something was off - you could see it right in its looks. It only had one eye; the spot where the other one would've been was nothing other than a large clump of black fur. Its entire body was littered in scars and cuts, and grey skin could be seen where some of the lacerations rested. One arm was shorter than the other, forcing the thing to move in an awkward fashion. It had missing teeth, and its tongue was purple. Surely, this creature was the definition of an experiment gone _wrong_.

My stomach churned just _looking_ at the diseased Werewolf. Unlike the other two, this one looked _way_ too far gone, like it only had a few hours left to live before its brain became one hundred percent toxins. It was nothing like I'd ever seen before, and I guess that's why I left to go to the restroom, a silent excuse to leave.

"I'll be back, Niall," I told the omega, not staying to see his hurt face as I hurried off to the restroom.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

I stared into the mirror of the omega's restroom, comtemplating whether I should go out or stay here for the rest of the last match - _Harry's_ match. I figured with a sigh that I'd go back out 'cause if I ended up staying here, there'd no doubt be suspicion. Niall might not've, but Liam and Zayn surely would've picked up on the extended abscence. So, with a push out the door, I...

To my right, frantic commotion was splitting out from several teachers and staff members. They did not seem to notice my presence as their main concern was solely on something else, but just to make sure, I shrouded around the corner, resting my head around the edge just enough to see what was going on. Obviously _something_ was happening - or _did_ happen.

I picked up on pieces of what they were jittering about, but the most commonly repeated phrase was "Mónimos," and I didn't know why, but based on the panicked expressions and negative energy, I made the bold estimate that whatever it was was _not_ good.

And then the adults turned their heads to somewhere off in the distance. With the cluster of bodies, I couldn't perceive what it was quite yet, but when I did see it, life had not prepared me enough for the appalling sight.

It was only for a second, but I saw Harry -unconscious and corpse-like- strapped down to a stretcher being hauled off somewhere into a backroom.

_Harry?_

The image has always stayed with me: his pale, death-singing skin, and the sudden mere thought that the boy I'd been dreading all day was dead; however, one of the medical people claimed his heart was still active, so that thought had been erased... but only _half_ -erased. Even if his heart was still beating, he looked too lifeless for anyone to think he'd survive.

Even as Harry had diappeared out of view, I still saw him in the nightmarish picture in my head. I'd known that boy since the first year of high school, and I'd never forgotten the day I became his favourite victim. He'd bullied me for years, including the moments here in college - the place where I hoped to start a _new_ life. He'd been the reason behind my tears and worries... yet somehow, seeing him teetering on the edge of life had me resurrecting a different feeling. I couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it resembled something of worry.

It was weird.

But Harry couldn't be dead. It was _Harry Styles!_ He couldn't die - not now. It felt like a piece had been stolen from a puzzle. Even though I hated him till the dark reaches of my heart, the idea that Harry Styles might possibly die didn't feel right.  
He couldn't die... he just couldn't...

"Hey!"  
  
I jolted, then quickly looked up to see a teacher stomping over to me with an discipling rage. I cowarded immediately. Shit, I'd been so distracted, I didn't even notice anyone see me.

"What are you doing here?!" the red-faced teacher demanded.

I stuttered, "Uhm, uh- I was just in the, uh, the restroom and I, uh, saw this and... and, uh..."

The teacher stared at me, then was forgiving suddenly. "Hmf! Well, there's nothing to see here. Go back up and find your friends," he told me.

I nodded respectfully (and nervously). "Th-Thank-you!" I said, and hurried back upstairs, unable to detach Harry from my mind.

What the hell happened to him? What did I miss? Did the Mónimos almost kill him and they had to cancel his match?... Huh. After seeing the Werewolf, I'd believe the latter without even being told twice. But still, I was anxious to know what happened, and I bolted off the last step and rushed over to the spot where I left.

Niall was the first one I saw, so he was the first one I hollered out to. "Niall!"

The omega whirled around, and upon seeing me he scurried over with a nervous skip in his step. "Lou!"

The question I'd been dying to ask for the last minute was the first thing to come rushing out. "What happened?!"

Niall's face warped with concern. "Louis," he murmured, "I... I don' know. Yer guess is as good as mine."

I sighed impatiently. "What do you mean you _don't_ know?"

"I wasn't watchin'!" Niall exclaimed, dismayed.

As we were both omegas, Niall was quickly picking up on my distress and started to develop a replica of his own. It was the same thing with heats, too; if one omega spiralled into heat, all other omegas nearby would also succumb to theirs. Realizing this, I quickly scooped Niall in for an embrace to attempt to console not only him, but both of us. I was hoping the closeness would somehow soothe the tension.

Niall whimpered into my neck. "I don' know, Lou... I don't know..."

"Shh, it's okay."

I saw Zayn in the distance with a group of his friends I didn't recognize. His head turned at the right time that I was looking at him and he began sauntering over. His casual face had been disturbed by the feeling of worry, and I immediately hoped that Zayn knew what was going on.

I asked before he even reached us. "What the heck happened!?"

Zayn did not answer until he was in front of me. He stood with his hands stored in his jean pockets and frowned, suddenly sympathetic. "Louis, uhm..." He ran a hand through his black hair in the silent form of disconcert, "Harry was... bitten."

" _Bitten?_ " I repeated, bemused. "Bitten by the Mónimos you mean, right?"

Zayn nodded with an exhale. "Yeah."

I was confused again. "But... what does that mean?" Aiden was bit by the Mónimos, too, but he got right back up and defeated it. Had Harry been bit several times over? It actually would've explained the paleness of his skin from blood loss...

"It means he was _bitten_ , Louis," Zayn told me again, though this time he seemed to be pointing out something significant - something he didn't want to tell him himself.

Still, I was at a loss, and frankly I was getting a little peeved off right now. "Just _tell_ me, Zayn! You don't have to make this dramatic!"

"He was bitten, Louis, okay? That's all I know."

"How?!"

Zayn huffed, looking off to the side - to the stadium. "They blacked everything out," he then said quietly. "Nobody knows what happened afterwards."

I blinked- _flustered_ -then followed Zayn's gaze. I almost gasped. The stadium; it'd been coated with a black, tar-like substance. There was no glass perceivable from anywhere; it was blacked out just like Zayn had said, concealing the public eye from viewing what transpired from inside.

It took me a moment to realize something. The witch fingers. The spell - the spell Luke had been talking about! That's what that black web across the glass was meant for; that's why it was there in the first place.

"What?" I heard Zayn say. He must've noticed me deep in thought.

"The web," I reminded him, "that's why it was there."

Zayn stared at me, then his eyes casted. He looked like he knew something I didn't. "A blinding spell," he said, as if he was simultaneously telling himself that, "it was a blinding spell." He lifted his head, breathing in. "Seems Luke the Fluke was right."

I glowered, but didn't say anything on regards to the foul, infamous nickname Zayn used for my friend. Then I gasped suddenly, realizing, "Zayn, but what were they trying to hide?"

Zayn answered, "Harry."

"But Aiden was bit, and he's fine," I implied, "and it's not like his had poison in it. All the Mónimos were devenomized before the game."

"Harry's wasn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dah, dah, DAH!!!
> 
> So there it is! Part two! I think that'll be it for "The First Task." There will NOT be a part three, but there will be another chapter!
> 
> So... what'd you think? Tell me! It's been so long since I've updated this one! :D
> 
> Something to look forward to in the next chapter: hehehe... it's a secret...


	10. 10: gнoѕтѕ oғ yeѕтerday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The school is silent. The once-enthusiastic energy has vanished dramatically. And Louis, like everyone else, can't stop thinking about Harry Styles' foreboding fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long has it been? Three- four weeks? Whatever it is, please accept that it was necessary. The fanfiction was worrying me; you know, about making each chapter impressive while also making deadlines (obviously I can't be an editor then...). 'Course, if I still had my inspiration, this wouldn't be a problem; however, I found that the reason I was lacking so dramatically was because I just couldn't find the energy nor will to write fanfiction. I keep wondering what this will be worth later in my life. To help me improve my writing perhaps, but because I'd been focusing so much on this website and about figuring out how in the HELL I was gonna be able to satisfy everyone in updates for FIVE fanfics, I finally decided "you know what, I need a break."
> 
> So, literally, I haven't been writing for past few weeks. On a more positive note, it's kinda helped me. I think I'm ready to start again, but I need something important from you guys first...
> 
> READ THIS!!
> 
> ... I've sadly realized I have too many fanfics currently going. I think maybe if I stop or delete one or two (preferably two) then I'll be a little healthier to write here. So, your job, my fellow reader, is to tell me in the comments which two fanfics to stop/delete (I haven't decided to delete yet; honestly, seems a bit extreme). I thought maybe preferences from you guys would be wiser than just going ahead and deleting them myself.
> 
> So, please comment your opinions. It's very much appreciated, and I'm sorry. If it helps, try to see things from my point of view.
> 
> P.S. IS THIS THE FIRST CHAPTER I'VE EVER HAD THAT HAD LIAM FEATURING IN A GIF?! I FEEL LIKE IT IS! WHY HAVEN'T I EVER GIVEN LIAM SOME SPOTLIGHT BEFORE?!! WHY DIDN'T YOU GUYS TELL MEEEEE?!!!

 

The day after The First Task (and the... incident), the college had become a desolate place. It was like a ghost town, and it was very uncomfortable. The hallways carried an ominous hush whenever people weren't heading to class, and the air was stale and doleful. It felt like the life and joy that existed when the school year started -when the Wolf Games had inaugurated- had somehow disappeared into nothing but a hollow memory of what had happened yesterday. Nobody spoke about what happened, but it was obvious everyone was thinking about it... including me.

Yes, I couldn't stop thinking about Harry, and it was driving me _nuts_. I hated him; I couldn't understand why him potentially dying meant so much to me. It only left an achy feeling in me. It swelled in my throat and tightened my lungs. Liam had told me that I was "mourning," and that it was completely normal since _everyone_ was doing it. I couldn't tell him that this wasn't normal, that mourning for the one person I absolutely detested was the one person I was concerned about.

I was concerned about _Harry Styles_... never in my wildest dreams would I've ever imagined this to happen.

My pencil hovered over the page of my notebook. The led tip brushed occassionally across the page like a pendulum, leaving greyish scratches. I knew I had homework to do, but my mind was blank. Every time I rounded my conscience to focus on answering the questions due tomorrow, my mind swapped paths, leading straight back to Harry and his pastel skin.

If I hadn't heard the medical person announce that Harry's heart was still thrumming, I would've thought he was dead. I could imagine him now in the hospital bed, his heart straining on edge of life - insistent to live. I could also imagine the pain he was foregoing. I wondered what it felt like - to have fatal venom slithering through your veins just before you died. I wondered if it burned or itched, or if you could even _feel_ anything, if it just felt like you were already drifting into the spirit world.

... I wondered what would happen to Harry, whether he would die or live, whether he'd be able to continue in the Games or not. Regardless, everyone was worrying, and it didn't help that everyone was forbidden to see him.

Even though I'd never venture to Harry's hospital room for a pop-in visit for obvious reasons, it would've still been nice to have received some insight from others on his health. Zayn had tried to see Harry an hour after he'd been carried off to the college hospital, but had been denied immediately, informed that "only family members may see Mr. Styles at this time." It had only been family members for the last several hours, and still nobody had received news on the dying boy.

Niall had joked once that Harry might turn into a Mónimos, but had been shot down immediately by Liam's lambasting glare, then was doomed to a lengthy and aggressive speech by the beta about how the omega "shouldn't joke about death at a time like this." I would've found Niall's guilt-striken face amusing if it weren't for the heavy concern of a certain alpha governing my mind.

I frowned when the pencil oozed from my fingers and flopped onto the notebook's center crease. I stared at it dully, but never reached for it. As if I could even doodle in a state like this. I couldn't even go to _sleep_ on demand like I used to anymore. Everything had been postponed for more space to worry about Harry, and the worst part about it was that it was getting me _nowhere_.

I shook my head and plucked the pencil up with stiff movements, and leant the nose of the pencil against the empty paper, urging for words to appear.

"You can't do your homework either, huh?"

My head yanked up. "Oh, uhm." I tapped the pencil against the notebook assiduously. "Yeah... yeah, I guess not... I don't know." I completely dropped the pencil and rubbed my clammy palms over my face in a massacre of distress. "I don't even _know_ , Liam... I can't seem to do _anything_ right now, and it's bugging me. It's bugging me so _much!_ "

Liam was so sympathetic he was empathetic. His thick brows were pressed and worrying, wrinkles adorning the soft skin of his forehead. He wasn't wearing his glasses, which meant he wasn't he even attempting to do his homework. He was in the same boat as me, though this was the first time either one of us had said anything regarding the situation. I assumed we both thought we would just forget about it and move on, but we couldn't. It was like an invisible cancer.

Liam sighed. "Well, obviously we're not gonna get anywhere just sitting here moping around." I was surprised to see a small galvanized smile winding at his lips. "C'mon," he said, sliding off his bed, "I got an idea."

"I don't wanna see what's gonna happen for the Second Task," I divulged glumly. "I'm still not even over what happened in the Fir- "

"We're not doing that today," Liam told me, rounding to my side of the bed. "C'mon, Louis, we're getting you and I out of the dorm room today."

"But I don't feel up for an adventure," I complained.

Liam snorted. "Not even for an adventure down to the _kitchen?_ "

The _kitchen?_ I'd thought Liam was coaxing to go outside again, but everytime I thought about entering the outdoors again I'd be slammed with the dark memories again... but now he was telling me the _kitchen_ was our mission today, and my stomach might've just perked up at the thought of food and sweets. I didn't even have breakfast this morning, too tangled up in the demons inside my own mind.

"Okay. Fine," I said - defeated.

I closed my notebook and pushed it and the textbook aside onto the bed heedlessly. I didn't miss the tiny smirk of accomplishment infect Liam's face as we both trotted out the dorm room and downstairs to the public kitchen.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

Since we resided in an omega-only building, the kitchen was omega-only, too. Fortunately, the wide, beige room was basically bare of Wolf existence other than a few, so Liam and I were quick to help ourselves to the stove and cupcake ingredients. Usually the kitchen was stashed with lively omegas, but with the looming dread of one of the students possibly dying, it became a empty shell.

We both decided on splitting the icing colours; one half green and the other blue. It was typical for a beta's favourite colour to be green and an omega's to be blue, which explained why society had deduced those specific colours as the representative symbols for our genders. Most toys for omegas were blue, as betas were green, and as alphas were red. It wasn't so much 'sexist' as it was an innocent stereo-type.

Liam had been packing up the cupcakes-for-later in little sealable cups when I'd joked about not telling Niall since he'd eat them all up on us. The beta had surprised me with a soft glare before resuming with the cupcakes. "It'll be a horror story to keep sweet foods like these away from that boy," Liam had said.

I scrutinized him curiously before surmising, "You care about him." It wasn't a question.

Liam had ceased, and looked to me. His face looked sweet and kind, which was typical for Liam, but what was surprising is what lurked below: a kindess toward _Niall_ \- the one boy who relentlessly picked fights with the beta, and with whom the beta himself stewed accepted into the hostile mix with, too.

"You really _do_ care for Niall," I said again in genuine realization, and then I asked determinedly, "but why?" All he'd ever shown towards Niall was detest, but now all of a sudden he was bestowing a new set of feelings towards his omega friend.

Liam shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted, plucking in the last cupcake and sealing the lid overtop. "Niall just... he can be a little harsh at times, but I always find it in my heart to forgive the lonely omega."

I blinked as I held open the bag to allow Liam to delicately spill the cupcake cases into. "Lonely?" What could he possibly mean by that? He told me just yesterday that Niall was super social and popular, did he not? So then why would he be _lonely?_

"Niall may surround himself with friends," Liam begun, "but I can see it in his eyes, and also how he clings to _you_ , that he's just a lonely omega who wants something other than an endless list of contacts on his phone."

"And what's that do you think?" I pressed.

Liam finished dumping the cups in and stood with his typical beta poise to look at me. His big, brown eyes were solemn and friendly. "A family."

"Family?" I repeated, trotting up beside the beta as he turned to depart the kitchen, "but how do you know he never had a family before? I mean, yeah, based on the way he acts around me, I'd believe it, but he's spoken about a family background before, about how they refused to let him go to Mac tíre Academy because of their educational system, don't you remember that?"

"Yes," Liam answered, "but he's never spoken _passionately_ about them. Like," he raked a hand through his short hair with an exhale, "he's never cared to bring up his folks when we talked about ours."

"Most of the time he's on headphones," I agreed, following the beta out the kitchen and on the route back to the dorm room.

"Maybe he's on them for a _reason_ ," Liam suggested shrewdly.

I mulled on it for a moment. That did make sense. The most popular times when Niall had plugged in the infamous headphones was when the subject of parents and family had been resurrected. It was like he demonstrated a discomfort in the topic, and shied away from it surreptitiously. It made me sad to think Niall was brought up without any loving parents... and perhaps that was it. Maybe Niall did _grow up_ with a family, but that he never received the _love_ part from them.

The idea of a loveless family seemed horrible to me. Having grown up with a lovey-dovey, super affectionate family, I felt a deep melancholy for Niall. The idea of him being a victim to something so cold like that had me clenching a fist.

"Here."

I looked to the baby blue icing cupcake in Liam's offering hand.

"Oh! Uhm, thanks!" I said, taking the treat with my free arm (the other was holding the bag).

"I'll take that for you, Louis," Liam told me, and before I could protest, the beta had robbed the cupcake bag straight from my grasp.

I huffed, and -with an aggrieved pout- licked at the sweet, sweet icing hat of the cupcake. I purred contently. "Mmm..."

"Like it?" Liam asked, tasting a green cupcake with a complacent grin plastered to his face.

I rolled my eyes. "If I say yes, will you promise me... that you'll make more for the future?" I said, purring again as the succulent icing met my taste buds again.

"Sure," Liam replied. Then, as a new thought seemingly crossed his mind, his face swapped dramatically to a sheepish blush. "Uhm... and that's not the only thing I can do either... i-if you wanna it, that is."

"Ya!" I nodded frantically, "definitely!" I probably looked like an excited child about to see a magic trick, and what irony that was.

To my impatience, Liam had waited until we reached the dorm room to show me his little secret. I skipped into the room with an elated prance in my step, and plopped enthusiastically onto the bed. I waited with my heels rocking feverishly against the matress as I finished up the cupcake. I couldn't even fathom my excitement for whatever was about to happen, only that I really, really wanted to know this "secret" of Liam's, whether it was a tangible object or a dark secret he refused to tell anyone else.

"Okay," Liam announced modestly, "here it is." The beta produced a black wand from his jean buckle and stood poised and firm in front of the open dorm door. Had I forgotten to close it?

Then, with a swift jerk to the left of his wand, the door obeyed, following the direction as it snapped shut on its own hinges.

I gasped. It wasn't that I'd never seen a magic spell performed before my eyes, but that the _telekinesis_ spell was a _third year_ aptitude - not first year! First-Years -like myself and Liam- only learned the history _behind_ magic (which was a recipe for dozing off in class) and a few charms in-between. Second-Years learned spells, but were merely being introduced to it. Third-Years dove right into the cauldron and assimilated the whole deal of magic. Fourth-Years were a little more daring, and leant more towards the Dark Arts.

So, as a _First_ -Year, how was Liam able to perform the skill of a _Third_ -Year?

Liam chortled, turned now and facing me with a bashfully flattered smirk. "You're, uh, you're probably curious as t'how I did that."

"Yeah, kinda," I replied sarcastically.

Liam scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I think I'm just gonna be blunt with this... I didn't learn this spell in class."

"No shit."

Liam snickered, now toying modestly with his wand. "I actually just managed to master the telekinesis spell recently. It's a bit more tricky learning solely from a book than with a teacher, but with years of practise in high school to back you up, it got a little easier."

I was appalled. "You were practising magic in _high school?!_ " It was strictly forbidden. One could even get _expelled_ if a teacher caught you in the act.

"Yeah... kinda hard to see me as a rebel, huh?" _I've gotten a glimpse._

"How did you get away with it?" I asked eagerly.

Liam pondered, then grinned. "I hid outside during lunch and sometimes during my spares. The teachers never suspected a thing. You wouldn't think they would from a goody-two-shoes." He chuckled mischievously.

I hummed, narrowing my eyes at him - suspicious. "You're not the good beta everyone suspects you are, aren't you?" It was starting to make sense now, and I was a little astonished this revelation didn't seem to punch me right in the face, especially considering my first impression of Liam was a snobbish teacher's pet.

Liam shrugged. "Not quite. I'm still obedient, just not completely." He turned to me, simpering. "We all have our secrets, don't we?"

 _You have no idea,_ I thought slyly as I forced a casaul smile.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

The next day, I was languidly assisting customers in the shoes department at S. S. Sports. It'd been a rather tedious day with it raining outside... again ( _Jesus Christ_ , did it _ever_ let down here?), and still no news on preparations for the Second Task... nor on Harry Styles' condition.

I plastered a smile on my face as I helped customers with selecting their winter boots. It was October now, and apparently some people chose to winter shop early so that prices wouldn't cheat them when December actually rolled by. It was smart... but, to be honest, it was getting a little irksome. These people were already cheap arriving _two months_ early, but they were also very finicky about what _style_ the boot was. I tried explaining to them that we only had few winter boots in stock since they weren't exactly _in demand_ right now, but that was never good enough, and- _I swear_ -I was spending at least a half hour with ever customer.

I hadn't realized Josh had been vigilant from across the store, so I became a little tense when I noticed him trudging towards me. He pulled me aside and had remarked on my constant fidgeting.

"I- I have?" I discerned. I knew I'd been feeling under weather with all these people carding in with the same excuses and giving me the guff when they got frustrated, but I hadn't realized I'd actually been  _fidgeting_.

Josh patted my back affably. "Go wash up, then go help Mr. Malik over there with the Halloween decorations. I'll get someone else to help out over here."

I was relieved, but also guilty at the idea that I'd failed Josh (stupid omega instincts...). "Are you sure? I mean, I'm okay here. I can deal with- "

"Do as you're told, Louis," Josh simply said, then smiled affirmingly down at me. "Believe it or not, but part of my duty as a boss is to also _care_ about the well-being of my employees."

I nodded. "Thank-you."

"Alright." Josh gave a last pat. "Go. I'm not payin' you to stand around." And there he was again.

Complying, I scuttled to the restrooms to ease myself. I admit: maybe I did need this. The idea of collaborating with random people today didn't seem to fit. On my next shift when I'd (hopefully) be a little more relaxed, I'd repay Josh for this.

Bringing chilled water to my face, I looked up at the sink mirror and froze. I stared, and if I could've seen myself right about now, I probably would've laughed because of the mortified expression on my face. There, on my neck, peeking out slightly from the shielding of the collar (for which I was so thankful that my uniform had just managed to cover it) was the mark.

Had it... gotten _darker?_ Horrified, I reached up to prod it, flinching when the sensitive nerves reacted. It _had_ darkened. It made sense, too: after about two-to-three days, bruises darkened, but it was only because they were healing. Still, the once-purplish dot on my neck had now blossomed into a ghastly smear. Like a zit, it was dreadfully conspicuous, demanding eye attention.

Great. Just _great_. How was I supposed to conceal this _now?_ The collar had shaded it, but with it now being darker than ever, it poked right out from the shadowy habitat. I could perhaps put a bandage on it... if there was one large enough, that is. Or I could just pray that I won't have anymore run-ins with Josh today.

Ugh.

Deciding to face the world regardless, I tugged my collar up, feeling despondent as it drooped, but ignored it nontheless. Immediately, I'd succumbed to the paranoia of people to my right, and tried discreetly to only allow people to see my left side - the side without the hickey. I was hoping my strange behaviour could be mistaken for modesty.

I found Zayn with a hanging string of plastic Halloween symbols above the football merchandise. He teetered on the top step of the ladder, reaching with a tight face to successfully nail the one end to the wall. He cussed profusely when he accidentally stabbed his finger on the sharpness of the nails whilst blindly reaching into the plastic container. The large string drifted to the floor. I chuckled.

Zayn had apparently heard me and shifted his eyes. Still sucking on his injured finger, he stiffened, his face quickly reddening with abash. "Don't laugh," he grumbled.

I just chuckled again.

Sighing, Zayn muttered _"of course he did"_ under his breath as he began clambering back down the metal ladder. I watched him with a smirk, and crossed my arms boldly when he turned to me when he'd touched the floor.

"I'm gonna spank you, Louis," Zayn threatened, though the playful tone suggested otherwise.

Amused, I replied, "Might I remind you that this is a _workplace_ and that _sex_ isn't allowed here." I was quoting Josh on the first day we came here.

Zayn caught on immediately, smirking. "The spanking I wanted to give you wasn't the sexy kind, Mr. Tomlinson, it was the my-omega-is-being-naughty-brat kind."

"I'm not your omega," I rebuked.

"Nope," Zayn agreed, "I have my own... but that doesn't mean I can't look out for a little friend." He ambled over and plucked up the end of the string of decorative cartoon pictures, grimacing at it. He muttered indignantly, "Why are they trying to _embarrass_ us? They do know this store has sharp objects that could easily harm some stupid kid."

" _You're_ a stupid kid then," I giggled, referring to his little prick-on-the-finger incident a minute ago.

Zayn frowned. "Shut-up...," he groused, twisting away to hide his heated face.

I scrambled to fetch another ladder -one that was unoccupied- and returned to assist the alpha with the hanging string. I held the one end of the string in place, flattened against the walls while Zayn nailed it in, stabilizing it. Zayn rejoiced with a triumphant smile, then we slid back down the ladders.

Zayn looked to me with a casual smile, but then as his eyes drifted below my face, everything else seemed to be forgotten. His smile dissipated to a frown and a curious dread uplifted in his face. I was instantly concerned, and as I followed the alpha's hard gaze, I realized- _dismayed_ -that Zayn had distinguished the mark on my neck.

Immediately, I huddled my collar over it, concealing it. Unfortunately, I knew already that it was futile, and frankly I castigated myself for it. _Nice, Tomlinson; now he'll never suspect a thing_. The foreboding heat detonated in my chest as Zayn's suspicious eyes remained resolute on the one spot where I hoped nobody would ever see. And now Zayn knew... he wasn't stupid; he probably already knew what it was without asking me.

"Louis," Zayn grated out - disbelieving. "I... is that a _hickey?!_ " The last word squeezed out with a force of disgust. He sounded like a parent who just realized his daughter had been secretly chatting with a boy ten years older than her online.

I was blank. It _was_ a hickey; I couldn't lie to him that it wasn't when it so clearly displayed itself dark and splotchy on my neck. However, I didn't like the idea of Zayn thinking I was some slut, so I sought to amend that impending image.

My voice was so small and quiet when I spoke to him. I could barely concentrate with the alpha's scrutiny practically suffocating me. "Yes, but- "

"Who did it?" Zayn demanded, remissing my input. He charged up to me, his hands immediately drawing to my neck. My hands were hasty attempting to bat his away, but the alpha was adamant and yanked down the collar, exposing the mark.

"I... I- "

"I asked you a question." His tone was something I'd never witnessed before; cruel and dictating. He was lingering just off the edge of the Alpha Voice, the grisly timbre insisting where his anger loosened on his control.

I felt that familiar, discomforting twine in my belly. The yearning to submit impaled up from my stomach and up my throat, burning. _He serious_ , my omega whimpered, exhorting the want to obey and be passive to this alpha - to Zayn. I felt like whimpering myself. I didn't want this. Zayn was one of the last people I would've preferred to find out about this.

Zayn's tough fingers shifted my jaw up to the side, denuding the mark even further. Ashamed, I tried to bend my shoulder in attempt to safeguard the mark, but Zayn's grip immediately denied me that action and he detained my shoulder with just his pinkie and fingers. Ugh. I wrestled a little, mustering my last string of willpower to hopefully break free, but the sheer tenacity of Zayn's hold refused to be deterred. I was captured. The reality of it had me writhing in a mental pool of regret and indignity.

"Ah- uhm..." I couldn't give him the truth though; I couldn't tell him who did it. I fished around my mind for a fake, decently-convincing answer, but all I could comprehend was an annoying incantation of _Harry Styles! Harry Styles! Harry Styles!_

"It's quite dark," Zayn quietly remarked, his thumb brushing.

I whined, flinching away. "D-Don't-!"

"When did it happen?" Zayn asked, and I suddenly felt assaulted with his collecting questions. Which one did he want answered first?

But I couldn't tell him that _either_ because then that'd pilot right back to "who did it?" Feeling knotted in the troubling situation, I boldly pressed my lips together, rebuffing to answer. He hadn't used the Alpha Voice just yet; I still hung onto some kind of self-control.

Surprisingly, Zayn hadn't pushed the matter; he didn't even apply the Alpha Voice. He just stood- _utterly stilled_ -with his fingers incarcerating me in the same awkwardly bent position. I allowed it to happen as I was already apprehensive about choosing to ignore his questions. We stayed like that only for half a minute before Zayn's hold loosened, silently granting me liberation. I stepped away instantaneously.

Zayn folded his arms over his chest. His face was impassive, yet his gaze still felt dangerous like he was comtemplating how to handle my punishment. However, as I scrutinized, his forehead started ghosting with wrinkles, suggesting a different emotion. Was he... concerned? He didn't look particularly angry at all... though I didn't understand what he'd be concerned about. A hickey wasn't going to _kill_ me.

It felt like someone had torn out a page in a book just as we were approaching it as Zayn wheeled on his heel and just strolled right back to the ladder. I watched, torn between relief and feeling unsatified. Zayn was acting as if what just happened _never_ happened. Was he allowed to do that? What were his intentions exactly?

"Help me with this," Zayn ordered firmly as he selected another festoon with flat, plastic Halloween cartoons from a blue bin.

I understood immediately, and scurried over, hastily taking the other end. My mind was still in a perplexed flurry as I oberved him casually adjust the ladder to a different spot. I dropped the string to do the same, steering my ladder to an area where I assumed he planned to post the thing. I was timid to question the abrupt silence he initiated.

Eventually, the awkwardness grew too discomforting, and I piped up. "Zayn?" My voice was tiny again, "what are you _doing?_ "

"Embarrassing the name of Sports with kiddy pictures," Zayn answered flatly, thrusting a nail into his black jeans pocket, then he shoved one towards me.

I took it hesitantly. I stared at him dubiously. "No, I mean like... earlier... you, uh- you just..." I plucked at the end of my uniform shirt anxiously, "you just walked away."

"Your point?" Zayn quiped.

My heart was achy as I responded, "It wasn't, like, what I _expected_. It was kinda a bit awkward, actually." I glanced down at my hands (which were still toying with my shirt) as my face burgeoned with a sheepish heat.

"Then what _were_ you expecting?" Zayn asked, his tone arising as a pique quickly overrode him.

I was instantly fearful and found myself inevitably in another regretful situation. "Uh, nothing specific," I answered rigidly, "but, uhm... I definitely wasn't anticipating for you to just walk away like that."

"Louis," pressed a forceful note from Zayn, "you refused to tell me _anything_. What else was I supposed to do with that? If you won't let me in, how am I supposed to help you?" His voice was strangled with the built-up exasperation he'd been harbouring for the past few minutes.

"I-I just- "

"Go stick the other end of this thing into the wall," Zayn adjured, cold and rejecting. _This_ was the bad boy; _this_ was the acclaimed side of Zayn; the side everyone else saw... and I was getting a piece of it.

Zayn wasn't usually like this with me, and I guess that's what broke my heart. I felt like I'd failed, that this was all _my_ fault. And it probably was. The mood still would've been bright and impish if I'd of just covered the mark up better; Zayn wouldn't've been dragged into a bad mood if I just kept my mouth shut. My throat was swelling as the guilt infected me, and I knew what was about to happen, but suddenly I didn't care.

My eyes scorched, threatening as I watched Zayn with his back to me. He was miffed, muttering frustrated grunts as he attempted to untangle the twisted string. I felt invisible. I knew he hadn't forgotten I was still here, but a depressed thought told me he wouldn't even care if I just walked away. I didn't want Zayn to think of me this way. He'd never been angry with me before - least not like this. I felt rejected- _unwanted_ -and it hurt - a lot.

Eventually, I couldn't help it. "Zayn," I begged, fluctuating on the brink of tears, "I.... I-I'm... s-s-sor-r-ry...!" I hadn't realized I was crying until cheek felt sticky. Feeling ashamed, I quickly brought my hands to my eyes, trying to occlude the sight I'd inadvertently created. I hated crying in front of people...

I meant to take a step back -hopefully leave- but then familiar arms barricaded around me. I knew it was Zayn, and that was exactly what prompted me to sob harder. The guilt cut right through me, tempted to mutilate me in half. I wish it did, then I wouldn't have to deal with the trapped situation of feeling pathetic.

I pancaked against Zayn's chest as his arm contricted me, forcing me close. My emotions continued to get the better of me, and tears drained from my eyes, sponging into Zayn's uniform. The alpha didn't seem to care. His one hand braced the back of my head and the other rubbed my back. Eventually, with the combination of closeness and Zayn's soft cigarette smoke scent, my taut body and overwrought mind finally found some ease.

We stayed like that for a while, and frankly I'm surprised that Josh hadn't reprimanded us for "standing around on the job." It makes me happy sometimes to think that maybe the beta _did_ see us, but _allowed_ it to happen. Everyone knew Josh was a harsh person to mend with, but I knew he cared; he showed me that not ten minutes ago.

Eventually, Zayn's strapping arms loosened. I lifted myself off of the alpha a little, and rubbed away any remaining evidence of tears. Zayn's one hand tousled with the strands of my hair as I composed myself. Zayn added some distance between us, but still stood in front of me. I felt his watchful eyes on me as I bashfully scrubbed my face and fixed my uniform.

"Start eating more, Lou," Zayn suddenly said. "You're getting skinny."

I sniffled, staring up at the alpha dubiously. "Wha...? Th-That's what you have to say at a time like th-this?"

Zayn looked almost surprised, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, huh, sorry. I just felt concerned. I mean, I could feel all your bones through your uniform, Lou. Correct if I'm wrong, but I don't remember that being healthy."

I hadn't discerned my weight loss... but I guess what Zayn said was true though. For the past week, I'd barely been sucking down one meal a day. My stomach barely registered hunger anymore. I blamed it mostly on my energy wasted worrying about running into Harry Styles again and reliving another bullying... but ever since yesterday, that worry had been diverged. I'd started worrying _for_ Harry Styles now. But, nevertheless, the same anxious mind-set never deterred, and I never considered my stomach's side of the story.

"Oh," I muttered, chuckling demurely, "I guess I've just been preoccupied with my studies." The lie skidded right through my teeth. I couldn't remember the last time I actually studied properly. Everytime I did, my thoughts swerved right back to the anxious topic of Harry Styles.

"Well," Zayn concluded,"let's get this crap done swiftly and efficiently so we'll have time after to go to a really fattening fast food place."

I rolled my eyes.

 

 

*´¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*•. ¸♥¨`*•.¸♥♥¸.•*´¨`*• .¸♥.•*´¨`*•.¸

 

 

After work had passed and a determined alpha had aerated me with greasy fastfood, I found myself back at the college, meandering to the omega dormitory. I didn't know why, but something felt odd. It whisked around me, and as I breathed in the winter-warning air, I felt a peculiar suspicion manifest. Much so, nothing visible seemed out of the ordinary, which was until I drew eyes on a particular duo standing- _awaiting so_ -before the doors.

I approached them.

"What's wrong?" I asserted automatically.

Though, their faces -now that I'd deciphered- were stress-free. Well, except for Liam. The beta had his arms folded, but his face was a mangle of nerves. No amount of his confidence could mask the trepidation hiding behind those brown eyes. So, suddenly (and quite obviously), I was plastered curious.

Niall gleamed with mischievous positivity. "We've come up with a plan." His expression teetered. "Well, actually, I was the one to come up with the plan. The beta here just kinda agreed to it."

I should've been concerned with this so-called plan, but first, I was bewildered by the non-accented words easing from the omega's messy mouth. His words were _clear_. There was no hint of Irish sloppiness. "Niall-? Why do you sound like... like...!?"

The omega ambashed, casting away like a bummed child. "Yeah... about that..." Then, in an indignant snap, he scowled, eyes flaming to the beta. His voice rose, too. "Actually, ask _him_. He'll _proudly_ tell you."

"Stop it," Liam scolded, a lecturing face to the resenting omega. Then he turned to me, the shadow of ire relieving. He smiled; a twitch at his dry lips. "Uhm. Yes, I suppose I should tell you. You see, when you left for work, Niall here revealed himself from under the bed like a bloody _banshee_." He was half-speaking to Niall. "It was horrific. He just kept slurring in his own language. I couldn't understand a thing."

"What happened?" I cut, impatiently urging for the point.

Liam shrugged as if it wasn't his fault. "Well, I wanted to understand the lad, but he wouldn't listen, so I spelled him. Took his non-comprehensive voice away I did."

I was appalled. "You _erased_ his _accent?!_ "

"It's not permanent," the beta quickly defended, almost snapping. "It's temporary. I don't got the skills yet for permanent spells. 'Sides, I wouldn't dream of casting one; the Dark Arts is where they belong to, and I ain't tainting my wand with that foul magic."

"Still," I hissed, "you can't _do_ that. It's not _civil_."

"Why not?" His tone was pressed. "Don't you find it relievin' too, Lou? Now you can least understand 'im now." His eyes were dark slits of dangerous accusation. "Don't tell me you could _actually_ understand 'im, Lou."

"'Course I could!" It was sadly only half-true. It was true that for the past month coping with the omega, I found his accent to be very unkempt and frankly unclear. I'd dealt with it, restrained in the thick ropes of my sympathy to address the matter (I kept telling myself that he _grew up with it_ ; it wasn't his fault). Hence, as much as I genuinely felt for Liam's side, I also felt the annoying responsibility to garrison for Niall's.

Liam then flicked his wrist, rinsing the topic, seemingly already wearing an exhustion from it. "No offence, Lou, but we got bigger concerns right now."

"But I thought nothing was wrong," I pin-pointed, touching on accusing.

Niall huffed in dry humour. "Nothing is wrong... yet."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Niall said, anticipation rising, "that we're gonna be breaking into the hospital. _Tonight_."

 _The hospital?_ I couldn't fathom these two's ideology. "Come again?"

"Hospital," Liam repeated; low, defining. "Niall's sought the illusion to see Mr. Styles tonight." There was a sliver of peeking humour that was unmissable, especially to the likes of a certain omega nearby.

Niall's Irish rage activated again, though the actual Irish -constrained by forbidding magic- couldn't perform on his tongue. "It's not an _illusion_ , beta. It's a _fact_. We're _going_ to have an actual talk with Styles."

The horror crept inside me and lounged. I pondered those words - _that_ word: Styles. More horror beetled along my skin, and I shivered. Already? I'd just finished wiping away my anxious carriage; now, I was right back to square one, everything else shallowed, forgotten in the futile shadows.

"Why must you talk to him _tonight?_ " I pressed, pushing over the wall of my willingness. I wished not to speak about Harry as it made me uncomfortable, but something about the situation had provoked my sheltered moxie. I _needed_ to know why this adventure was so important _tonight_.

"Need to know what happened last night," Niall admonished as if it were already obvious. "Wouldn't you like to know what happened too, Louis?"

 _I already do_ , the thought sailed without ownership. I remembered the draining of his skin as if Death was hovering nearby, drinking, maliciously enjoying the taste of Harry's life as the boy slowly gave. The sight was difficult to absorb; that's all I'll say.

Then I realized... I must've been the only one who was aware of that. The spell of the black branches had swallowed the glass bowl of the arena, overlapping and shrouding the activity of what transpired from inside. So, consequently, that'd indicate that nobody _saw_ Harry Styles being inspected, lain down, strapped, and carried on the stretcher; however, Zayn had explained a glimpse of the event the public's inquisitive eyes had sipped up before Harry had acquired injury, and that was the _bite_. I still couldn't believe he was bitten and poisoned by one of those hideous things. His ego must've blinded him from the possibilities of existing inside that parlous arena. And somehow, somewhere, in a small crevice of my mind, a dauntless thought pronounced that perhaps -maybe after all that's happened- Harry _deserved_ it.

And I couldn't bring myself to regret thinking that. Every little drop of karma is _his_ blood on the table.

"I have something," Liam proclaimed, his hand scurrying his pocket.

 _What is it?_ He suddenly introduced a collection of ghostly boons - _name tags_ , that is- and I say it's ghostly because there were _three_ \- three hospital name tags with _our_ faces, _our_ names, and _our_ information on them as if we actually worked there. A coat of plastic suffocated each one; smooth and glossy. I was scared to ask where exactly Liam unearthed a picture of my face, but if I had to suggest, I'd say it was probably during one of my many empty studying hours with the beta accompanying me in the room. What a bandit I shared in my quarters...

"How- ?" I couldn't speak. Thankfully, accentless omega spoke for me.

"Where'd you get these from, Payne?" Niall demanded.

Niall's hand swept, snatching his name tag like an eagle would snatch a fish from a pond. His eyes remained fixated and sharp on Liam - cautious. It didn't surprise me the untrusting grudge still endured. By doing surgery magic on Niall's vocal cords, I'm sure it only fed the fire.

"I made 'em," Liam revealed. His tone was casual and modest, yet a pride prevailed, demonstrating in his every-so-slight chin raise, his corner-lip arch, and his glory-basking eyes.

Beta modesty. It was common. Liam's nature trapped his attitude in a sensible, professional state of mind. Liam was an obvious character who heeded his nature's chains- _the expectations_ -though pride was still a strong feeling, and I could tell as his face pulled, he wanted to rub this in Niall's face (who was fuming at the moment; averting eyes, exploding red), show him who exactly was the smarter wolf.

" _No_ , you didn't," Niall defended tightly, his jaw holding, his eyes narrowing like a cross woman, "there's no way." He added disdainfully, "Even with witchcraft, you can't create this stuff yet. It's an impossibility."

Obviously humans can whisk mischievous things like fake passes, but with the assistance of magic, these cards could fool even the _computer_ system into believing these were _real_. Magic is limited though, and I'm assuming -if Liam really did construct these from magic- then we'd only have a day's worth to apply them.

Fortunately, I forsaw the imminent verbal fight stewing, and I instantaneously sought to break the bonds before they cemented. "Guy, please, do not fight again. This is actually getting ridiculous." And, oh God, was it. I could dry up this topic with the many moments where I -the bystander- bottled up my exasperation whilst these two bickered in the same room for hours on an endless time string.

"You want me to forgive this... this..." Niall hands cut the hands in tetchy gesticulations, as if trying to summon the correct word. Then it came, "This CUNT!!"

"Niall!" I reprimanded, though I didn't feel as horrified as I wanted to. I was too accustomed to this flavour of hostility.

Liam, who looked ready to pounce, tightened, as if restraining himself. He -most likely his beta- was desperately yanking back the reigns on himself. I could practically _feel_ the negative energy cloaking him; the heat brushing me like vengeful feathers. It quite unnerved me actually.

His fury was buried, and suddenly the beta released a stiff breathe. He molded a sensible mask, and spoke calmly, though rigid, "Louis' right. No point in aruging if we're planning to work together on this."

"This isn't some cheesy kids show, Liam!" Niall snapped, prodding again for a rise from the beta.

"Niall," I stated calmly, "enough of this." _I'm bloody sick of it_. I looked to Liam, then to the ear-smoking omega. "Liam's right, too. If this was your plan, then teamwork is something you should be mending."

"Mending?" Niall snorted uppishly. "This isn't something you can simply just needle-and-thread. Omegas and betas aren't _meant_ to get along. We're completely different indivduals."

"Then why do Liam and I get along?"

Niall remained composed- _unharmed_ -from the rebuttal. "It's because you don't _see_ it, Lou," he lessoned. "You don't care to _look_ for it."

"Why would I want to?" I upbraided.

"You don't just want to; it just happens."

"Sounds prejudiced."

"You have no idea." And suddenly, something warped in Niall. His temper simmered, though he developed the shadow of a strange gloom in replacement. His dejected features casted, and his face mapped a particular, unreadable thought which appeared to be the source of this abrupt sadness... yet it was impossible for me to tell what it was.

I noticed this and seized my opportunity. "Niall, _please_." My tone softened voluntarily, like a parent speaking to a doleful child. "Hours ago, you agreed to get along with Liam for something in return. Now, can you promise me you'll do it again for the sake of a... friend." My throat gripped as I forced out the last word.

Niall looked reluctant at first- _unsteadied_ -, the Irish-y indignation retaliating for a quick moment, though, as he reconsidered, his brows turned shameful and his mouth drooped in his guilty realization. Even as stubborn as the omega seemed, he was still capable of seperating wrongs from rights. Obviously, at times, he refused to admit it (especially when it came to Liam), but right now, it was clear what had to be done in order to attain success, and Niall knew this.

"Alright, Lou," Niall sighed, then he growled puppyishly, "I hate when you're right."

"Right, we should probably start headin'," Liam reminded. "Security emphasizes around this time; don't want bad Wolves to catch patients while they're sleeping."

"What, do they think some stranger's gonna infiltrate and start stabbing the unconscious patients?" I criticized, simultaneously appalled and baffled by the news. Then I remembered. "Oh." _We're the strangers_. but then I added in defense, "but it's not like we're kill anybody."

"Doesn't matter. We're not authorized." Then, with a confident grin, the beta held aloft the security name tag frauds by their tails. "Not unless we have these."

"You _sure_ we won't get caught?" I asked, suddenly unsure and anxious as I was gifted my name tag. It felt as I thought it would; polished and fake. It also felt heavy, like I was cupping the burden of a lie right in my hands.

I was never good with being bad.

"Just as long as you stay focused," Liam replied, handing Niall's. "And if you follow me," he said, necklacing his on, "I'm sure nothing will go wrong."

Niall looked ready -fueled and anxious- to unleash a juicy, argument-worthy response to that, but upon catching my scolding side-glare, reminding him, he huffed and deflated. It was times like these were Niall was at his most disappointed. It was as if he received his life energy from feasting on Liam's bitter reactions. _That_ needed to stop.

Liam began walking, and -in a moment of face-slapping comprehension- I dashed up beside him, words rushing out in an anxious spill. "Waitwaitwait!" I called, "Liam, I have to ask, before we start, will it just be Niall going into Harry's room?" _Please say yes, please say yes_.

The question shifted and processed. His face stony and concentrated. Then, as the telegram delivered, Liam's lips unlatched. "If all goes well, then yes, it'll just be Niall."

I don't know where I assumed it'd just be Niall visiting, but apparently I'd been right, so I stuck with it. I had no information on the depicts of the plan, but I trusted Liam, and I also trusted (hoped) that it really would only be _Niall_ who tracked out Harry. Perhaps the omega would inquire about the details of yesterday, or how the alpha was feeling... or maybe Harry wouldn't wake _at all_ and we'd all be caught.

This plan -even as it did not exist to me yet- was flawed. I felt it. It seized me, demanding I did something, though it forgot to tell me _what_ exactly. A foreign pressure to speak up abducted me, though I ignored it, pushing it aside.

And that was my first mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel a dramatic change in the writing style at all near the end? :) I did.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? :)
> 
> Is my writing okay? If you have some friendly suggestions on improvement please tell me. There's always room for improvement, yes?


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